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Historical  : Tales 


The  Romance  of  Reality 


BY 

CHARLES  MORRIS 

AUTHOR  OF  ''HALF-HOURS  WITH  THE  BEST  AMERICAN 
AUTHORS,"  "TALES  FROM  THE  DRAMATISTS,"  "KING 
ARTHUR  AND  THE  KNIGHTS  OF  THE  ROUND-TABLE,"  ETC. 


GERMAN 


DENVER: 

TANDY,  WHEELER   &   COMPANY. 
1902. 


Copyright,  1893, 

BY 

J.  B.  Lippincott  Company 


Printed  bv  J.  B.  Lippincott  Company,   Philadelphia. 


CONTENTS. 


nox 


TA.QM 

Hermann,  the  Hero  of  Germany 7 

Alboin  and  Kosamond .19 

The  Career  of  Grimoald 28 

wlttekind,  the  saxon  patriot 36 

The  Eaids  of  the  Sea-Kovers 46 

The  Fate  of  Bishop  Hatto 57 

The  Misfortunes  of  Duke  Ernst 63 

The  Keign  of  Otho  II ...  68 

The  Fortunes  of  Henry  the  Fourth 76 

Anecdotes  of  Medieval  Germany 32 

Frederick  Barbarossa  and  Milan 104 

The  Crusade  of  Frederick  II 116 

The  Fall  of  the  Ghibelltnes 126 

The  Tribunal  of  the  Holy  Vehm 135 

William  Tell  and  the  Swiss  Patriots 145 

The  Black  Death  and  the  Flagellants     ....  158 

The  Swiss  at  Morgarten 165 

A  Mad  Emperor 171 

Sempach  and  Arnold  Winkelreid 181 

Ziska,  the  Blind  Warrior 192 

The  Siege  of  Belgrade 204 

Luther  and  the  Indulgences 212 

solyman  the  magnificent  at  guntz 226 

The  Peasants  and  the  Anabaptists 235 

The  Fortunes  of  Wallenstein 249 

The  End  of  Two  Great  Soldiers 262 

The  Siege  of  Vienna 274 

The  Youth  of  Frederick  the  Great 285 

Voltaire  and  Frederick  the  Great 301 

Scenes  from  the  Seven  Years'  War 310 

The  Patriots  of  the  Tyrol 323 

The  Old  Empire  and  the  New 338 

3 


\. 


831 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


GERMAN. 

PAGE 

Thusnelda  in  the  Germanicus  Triumph  [Frontispiece). 

The  Baptism  of  Wittekind 43 

The  Mouse-Tower  on  the  Khine 60 

The  Amphitheatre  at  Milan 109 

Statue  of  William  Tell 151 

The  Castle  of  Prague 171 

Statue  of  Arnold  Winkelreid 187 

Statue  of  Luther  at  Worms     •  222 

The  Mosque  of  Solyman,  Constantinople     ....  233 

Old  Houses  at  Munster 243 

Sans  Souci,  Palace  of  Frederick  the  Great     .    .  310 

The  Last  Day  of  Andreas  Hofer 335 


HERMANN,    THE  HERO   OF 
GERMANY. 

In  the  days  of  Augustus,  the  emperor  of  Rome  in 
its  golden  age  of  prosperity,  an  earnest  effort  was 
made  to  subdue  and  civilize  barbarian  Germany. 
Drusus,  the  step-son  of  the  emperor,  led  the  first 
army  of  invasion  into  this  forest-elad  land  of  the 
north,  penetrating  deeply  into  the  country  and  build- 
ing numerous  forts  to  guard  his  conquests.  His  last 
invasion  took  him  as  far  as  the  Elbe.  Here,  as  we 
are  told,  he  found  himself  confronted  by  a  super- 
natural figure,  in  the  form  of  a  woman,  who  waved 
him  back  with  lofty  and  threatening  air,  saying, 
"How  much  farther  wilt  thou  advance,  insatiable 
Drusus?  It  is  not  thy  lot  to  behold  all  these  coun- 
tries. Depart  hence !  the  term  of  thy  deeds  and  of 
thy  life  is  at  hand."  Drusus  retreated,  and  died  on 
his  return. 

Tiberius,  his  brother,  succeeded  him,  and  went  far 
to  complete  the  conquest  he  had  begun.  Germany 
seemed  destined  to  become  a  Roman  province.  The 
work  of  conquest  was  followed  by  efforts  to  civilize 
the  free-spirited  barbarians,  which,  had  they  been 
conducted  wisely,  might  have  led  to  success.  Ore 
of  the  Roman  governors,   Sentius,   prefect  of   the 

7 


8  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Eliine,  treated  the  people  so  humanely  that  many 
of  them  adopted  the  arts  and  customs  of  Eome,  and 
the  work  of  overcoming  their  barbarism  was  well 
begun.  He  was  succeeded  in  this  office  by  Varus,  a 
friend  and  confidant  of  the  emperor,  but  a  man  of 
very  different  character,  and  one  who  not  only 
lacked  military  experience  and  mental  ability,  but 
utterly  misunderstood  the  character  of  the  people 
he  was  dealing  with.  They  might  be  led,  they  could 
not  be  driven  into  civilization,  as  the  new  prefect 
was  to  learn. 

All  went  well  as  long  as  Yarus  remained  peacefully 
in  his  head-quarters,  erecting  markets,  making  the 
natives  familiar  with  the  attractive  wares  of  Eome, 
instructing  them  in  civilized  arts,  and  taking  their 
sons  into  the  imperial  army.  All  went  ill  when  he 
sought  to  hasten  his  work  by  acts  of  oppression, 
leading  his  forces  across  the  Weser  into  the  land  of 
the  Cherusci,  enforcing  there  the  rigid  Eoman  laws, 
and  chastising  and  executing  free-born  Germans  for 
deeds  which  in  their  creed  were  not  crimes.  Yarus, 
who  had  at  first  made  himself  loved  by  his  kindness, 
now  made  himself  hated  by  his  severity,  The  Ger- 
mans brooded  over  their  wrongs,  awed  by  the  Eoman 
army,  which  consisted  of  thirty  thousand  picked 
men,  strongly  intrenched,  their  camps  being  irnpreg- 
nable  to  their  undisciplined  foes.  Yet  the  high- 
spirited  barbarians  felt  that  this  army  was  but  an 
entering  wedge,  and  that,  if  not  driven  out,  their 
whole  country  would  gradually  be  subdued. 

A  patriot  at  length  arose  among  the  Cherusci, 
determined  to  free  his  country  from  the  intolerable 


HERMANN,    THE   HERO    OP   GERMANY.  9 

Eoman  yoke.  He  was  a  handsome  and  athletic 
youth,  Arininius,  or  Hermann  as  the  Germans  prefer 
to  name  him,  of  noble  descent,  and  skilled  alike  in 
the  arts  of  war  and  of  oratory,  his  eloquence  being 
equal  to  his  courage.  He  was  one  of  the  sons  of 
the  Germans  who  had  served  in  the  Eoman  armies, 
and  had  won  there  such  distinction  as  to  gain  the 
honors  of  knighthood  and  citizenship.  Now,  per- 
ceiving clearly  the  subjection  that  threatened  his 
countrymen,  and  filled  with  an  ardent  love  of  lib- 
erty, he  appeared  among  them,  and  quickly  filled 
their  dispirited  souls  with  much  of  his  own  cour- 
age and  enthusiasm.  At  midnight  meetings  in  the 
depths  of  the  forests  a  conspiracy  against  Yarus  and 
his  legions  was  planned,  Hermann  being  the  chosen 
leader  of  the  perilous  enterprise. 

It  was  not  long  before  this  conspiracy  was  re- 
vealed. The  German  control  over  the  Cherusci  had 
been  aided  by  Segestus,  a  treacherous  chief,  whose 
beautiful  and  patriotic  daughter,  Thusnelda,  had 
given  her  hand  in  marriage  to  Hermann,  against 
her  father's  will.  Filled  with  revengeful  anger  at 
this  action,  and  hoping  to  increase  his  power,  Seges- 
tus told  the  story  of  the  secret  meetings,  which  he 
had  discovered,  to  Yarus,  and  bade  him  beware,  as  a 
revolt  against  him  might  at  any  moment  break  out. 
He  spoke  to  the  wrong  man.  Pride  in  the  Eoman 
power  and  scorn  of  that  of  the  Germans  had  deeply 
infected  the  mind  of  Yarus,  and  he  heard  with  in- 
credulous contempt  this  story  that  the  barbarians 
contemplated  rising  against  the  best  trained  legions 
of  Eome. 


10  HISTORICAL    TALES. 

Autumn  came,  the  autumn  of  the  year  9  a.d.  The 
long  rainy  season  of  the  German  forests  began. 
Hermann  decided  that  the  time  had  arrived  for  the 
execution  of  his  plans.  He  began  his  work  with  a 
deceitful  skill  that  quite  blinded  the  too-trusting 
Varus,  inducing  him  to  send  bodies  of  troops  into 
different  parts  of  the  country,  some  to  gather  pro- 
visions for  the  winter  supply  of  the  camps,  others  to 
keep  watch  over  some  tribes  not  yet  subdued.  The 
Roman  force  thus  weakened,  the  artful  German  suc- 
ceeded in  drawing  Varus  with  the  remainder  of  his 
men  from  their  intrenchments,  by  inducing  one  of 
the  subjected  tribes  to  revolt. 

The  scheme  of  Hermann  had,  so  far,  been  com- 
pletely successful.  Varus,  trusting  to  his  represen- 
tations, had  weakened  his  force,  and  now  prepared 
to  draw  the  main  body  of  his  army  out  of  camp. 
Hermann  remained  with  him  to  the  last,  dining 
with  him  the  day  before  the  starting  of  the  expedi- 
tion, and  inspiring  so  much  confidence  in  his  faith- 
fulness to  Eome  that  Varus  refused  to  listen  to  Se- 
gestus,  who  earnestly  entreated  him  to  take  Hermann 
prisoner  on  the  spot.  He  even  took  Hermann's 
advice,  and  decided  to  march  on  the  revolted  tribe 
by  a  shorter  than  the  usual  route,  oblivious  to  the 
fact  that  it  led  through  difficult  mountain  passes, 
shrouded  in  forests  and  bordered  by  steep  and  rocky 
acclivities. 

The  treacherous  plans  of  the  patriotic  German 
had  fully  succeeded.  While  the  Komans  were  toil- 
ing onward  through  the  straitened  passes,  Hermann 
had  sought  his  waiting  and  ambushed  countrymen, 


HERMANN,  THE  HERO  OF  GERMANY.       11 

to  whom  he  gave  the  signal  that  the  time  for  ven- 
geance had  come.  Then,  as  if  the  dense  forests 
had  borne  a  sudden  crop  of  armed  men,  the  furious 
barbarians  poured  out  in  thousands  upon  the  un- 
suspecting legionaries. 

A  frightful  storm  was  raging.  The  mountain 
torrents,  swollen  by  the  downpour  of  rain,  over- 
flowed their  banks  and  invaded  the  passes,  along 
which  the  Eomans,  encumbered  with  baggage,  were 
wearily  dragging  onward  in  broken  columns.  Sud- 
denly, to  the  roar  of  winds  and  waters,  was  added 
the  wild  war-cry  of  the  Germans,  and  a  storm  of 
arrows,  javelins,  and  stones  hurtled  through  the  dis- 
ordered ranks,  while  the  barbarians,  breaking  from 
the  woods,  and  rushing  downward  from  the  heights, 
fell  upon  the  legions  with  sword  and  battle-axe,  deal- 
ing death  with  every  blow. 

Only  the  discipline  of  the  Eomans  saved  them 
from  speedy  destruction.  With  the  instinct  of  their 
training  they  hastened  to  gather  into  larger  bodies, 
and  their  resistance,  at  first  feeble,  soon  became  more 
effective.  The  struggle  continued  until  nightfall,  by 
which  time  the  surviving  Eomans  had  fought  their 
way  to  a  more  open  place,  where  they  hastily  in- 
trenched. But  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  remain 
there.  Their  provisions  were  lost  or  exhausted, 
thousands  of  foes  surrounded  them,  and  their  only 
hope  lay  in  immediate  and  rapid  flight. 

Sunrise  came.  The  soldiers  had  recovered  some- 
what from  the  fatigue  of  the  day  before.  Setting  fire 
to  what  baggage  remained  in  their  hands,  they  began 
a  retreat,  fighting  as  they  went,  for  the  implacable 


12  HISTORICAL   TALE8. 

enemy  disputed  every  step.  The  first  part  of  their 
route  lay  through  an  open  plain,  where  they  marched 
in  orderly  ranks.  But  there  were  mountains  still  to 
pass,  and  they  quickly  found  themselves  in  a  wooded 
and  pathless  valley,  in  whose  rugged  depths  defence 
was  almost  impossible.  Here  they  fell  in  thousands 
before  the  weapons  of  their  foes.  It  was  but  a  small 
body  of  survivors  that  at  length  escaped  from  that 
deadly  defile  and  threw  up  intrenchments  for  the 
night  in  a  more  open  spot. 

With  the  dawn  of  the  next  day  they  resumed  their 
progress,  and  were  at  no  great  distance  from  their 
stronghold  of  Aliso  when  they  found  their  progress 
arrested  by  fresh  tribes,  who  assailed  them  with 
murderous  fury.  On  they  struggled,  fighting,  dying, 
marking  every  step  of  the  route  with  their  dead. 
Varus,  now  reduced  to  despair,  and  seeing  only 
slaughter  or  captivity  before  him,  threw  himself  on 
his  sword,  and  died  in  the  midst  of  those  whom  his 
blind  confidence  had  led  to  destruction.  Of  the  whole 
army  only  a  feeble  remnant  reached  Aliso,  which 
fort  they  soon  after  abandoned  and  fought  their  way 
to  the  Rhine.  While  this  was  going  on,  the  detach- 
ments which  Varus  had  sent  out  in  various  directions 
were  similarly  assailed,  and  met  the  same  fate  as  had 
overtaken  the  main  body  of  the  troops. 

No  more  frightful  disaster  had  ever  befallen  the 
Roman  arms.  Many  prisoners  had  been  taken, 
among  them  certain  judges  and  lawyers,  who  were 
the  chief  objects  of  Hermann's  hate,  and  whom  he 
devoted  to  a  painful  death.  He  then  offered  sacri- 
fices to  the  gods,  to  whom  he  consecrated  the  booty, 


HERMANN,  THE  HERO  OF  GERMANY.       13 

the  slain,  and  the  leading  prisoners,  numbers  of 
them  being  slain  on  the  altars  of  his  deities.  These 
religious  ceremonies  completed,  the  prisoners  who 
still  remained  were  distributed  among  the  tribes  as 
slaves.  The  effort  of  Yarus  to  force  Koman  customs 
and  laws  upon  the  Germans  had  led  to  a  fearful 
retribution. 

When  the  news  of  this  dreadful  event  reached 
Eome,  that  city  was  filled  with  grief  and  fear.  The 
heart  of  Augustus,  now  an  old  man,  was  stricken 
with  dismay  at  the  slaughter  of  the  best  soldiers  of 
the  empire.  With  neglected  dress  and  person  he  wan- 
dered about  the  rooms  and  halls  of  the  palace,  his 
piteous  appeal,  "  Yarus,  give  me  back  my  legions !" 
showing  how  deeply  the  disaster  had  pierced  his  soul. 
Hasty  efforts  were  at  once  made  to  prevent  the  pos- 
sible serious  consequences  of  the  overthrow  of  the 
slain  legions.  The  Eomans  on  the  Ehine  intrenched 
themselves  in  all  haste.  The  Germans  in  the  im- 
perial service  were  sent  to  distant  provinces,  and 
recruits  were  raised  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  their 
purpose  being  to  protect  Gaul  from  an  invasion  by 
the  triumphant  tribes.  Yet  so  great  was  the  fear 
inspired  by  the  former  German  onslaughts,  and  by 
this  destructive  outbreak,  that  only  threats  of  death 
induced  the  Eomans  to  serve.  As  it  proved,  this 
defensive  activity  was  not  needed.  The  Germans, 
satisfied,  as  it  seemed,  with  expelling  the  Eomans 
from  their  country,  destroyed  their  forts  and  military 
roads,  and  settled  back  into  peace,  with  no  sign  of  a 
desire  to  cross  the  Ehine. 

For  six  years  peace  continued.     Augustus  died* 
2 


14  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

and  Tiberius  became  emperor  of  Eome.  Then,  in 
the  year  14  a.d.,  an  effort  was  made  to  reconquer 
Germany,  an  army  commanded  by  the  son  of  Drusus, 
known  to  history  under  the  name  of  Germanicus, 
attacking  the  Marsi,  when  intoxicated  and  unarmed, 
after  a  religious  feast.  Great  numbers  of  the  de- 
fenceless tribesmen  were  slain,  but  the  other  tribes 
sprung  to  arms  and  drove  the  invader  back  across 
the  Ehine. 

In  the  next  year  Hermann  was  again  brought  into 
the  fray.  Segestus  had  robbed  him  of  his  wife,  the 
beautiful  patriot  Thusnelda,  who  hitherto  had  been 
his  right  hand  in  council  in  his  plans  against  the 
Roman  foe.  Hermann  besieged  Segestus  to  regain 
possession  of  his  wife,  and  pressed  the  traitor  so 
closely  that  he  sent  his  son  Sigismund  to  Germani- 
cus, who  was  again  on  the  German  side  of  the  Rhine, 
imploring  aid.  The  Roman  leader  took  instant  ad- 
vantage of  this  promising  opportunity.  He  advanced 
and  forced  Hermann  to  raise  the  siege,  and  himself 
took  possession  of  Thusnelda,  who  was  destined  soon 
afterwards  to  be  made  the  leading  feature  in  a  Roman 
triumph.  Segestus  was  rewarded  for  his  treason,  and 
was  given  lands  in  Gaul,  his  life  being  not  safe  among 
the  people  he  had  betrayed.  As  for  the  daughter 
whom  he  had  yielded  to  Roman  hands,  her  fate  trou- 
bled little  his  base  soul. 

Thusnelda  is  still  a  popular  character  in  German 
legend,  there  being  various  stories  extant  concerning 
her.  One  of  these  relates  that,  when  she  lay  con- 
cealed in  the  old  fort  of  Schellenpyrmont,  she  was 
warned  by  the  cries  of  a  faithful  bird  of  the  coming 


HERMANN,  THE  HERO  OF  GERMANY.       15 

ot  the  Boinans,  who  were  seeking  steathily  to  ap- 
proach her  hiding-place. 

The  loss  of  his  beloved  wife  roused  Hermann's 
heroic  spirit,  and  spread  indignation  among  the  Ger- 
mans, who  highly  esteemed  the  noble-hearted  con- 
sort of  their  chief.  They  rose  hastily  in  arms,  and 
Hermann  was  soon  at  the  head  of  a  large  army, 
prepared  to  defend  his  country  against  the  invading 
hosts  of  the  Eomans.  But  as  the  latter  proved  too 
strong  to  face  in  the  open  field,  the  Germans  re- 
treated with  their  families  and  property,  the  coun- 
try left  by  them  being  laid  waste  by  the  advancing 
legions. 

Germanicus  soon  reached  the  scene  of  the  late 
slaughter,  and  caused  the  bones  of  the  soldiers  of 
Varus  to  be  buried.  But  in  doing  this  he  was  obliged 
to  enter  the  mountain  defiles  in  which  the  former 
army  had  met  its  fate.  Hermann  and  his  men 
watched  the  Eomans  intently  from  forest  and  hill- 
top. When  they  had  fairly  entered  the  narrow  val- 
leys, the  adroit  chief  appeared  before  them  at  the 
head  cf  a  small  troop,  which  retreated  as  if  in  fear, 
drawing  them  onward  until  the  whole  army  had 
entered  the  pass. 

Then  the  fatal  signal  was  given,  and  the  revengeful 
Germans  fell  upon  the  legionaries  of  Germanicus  as 
they  had  done  upon  those  of  Yarus,  cutting  them 
down  in  multitudes.  But  Germanicus  was  a  much 
better  soldier  than  Yarus.  He  succeeded  in  extri- 
cating the  remnant  of  his  men,  after  they  had  lost 
heavily,  and  in  making  an  orderly  retreat  to  his 
eiiips,  which  awaited  him  upon  the  northern  coast, 


16  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

whence  he  had  entered  the  country.  There  were  two 
other  armies,  one  of  which  had  invaded  Germany 
from  the  coast  of  Friesland,  and  was  carried  away 
by  a  flood,  narrowly  escaping  complete  destruction. 
The  third  had  entered  from  the  Ehine.  This  was 
overtaken  by  Hermann  while  retreating  over  the 
long  bridges  which  the  Eomans  had  built  across  the 
marshes  of  Munsterland,  and  which  were  now  in  a 
state  of  advanced  decay.  Here  it  found  itself  sur- 
rounded by  seemingly  insuperable  dangers,  being,  in 
part  of  its  route,  shut  up  in  a  narrow  dell,  into  which 
the  enemy  had  turned  the  waters  of  a  ra])id  stream. 
While  defending  their  camp,  the  waters  poured  upon 
the  soldiers,  rising  to  their  knees,  and  a  furious  tem- 
pest at  the  same  time  burst  over  their  heads.  Yet 
discipline  again  prevailed.  They  lost  heavily,  but 
succeeded  in  cutting  their  way  through  their  enemies 
and  reaching  the  Ehine. 

In  the  next  year,  17  a.d.,  Germanicus  again 
invaded  Germany,  sailing  with  a  thousand  ship? 
through  the  northern  seas  and  up  the  Ems.  Flavus, 
the  brother  of  Hermann,  who  had  remained  in  the 
service  of  Eome,  was  with  him,  and  addressed  his 
patriotic  brother  from  the  river-side,  seeking  to  in- 
duce him  to  desert  the  German  cause,  by  painting  in 
glowing  colors  the  advantage  of  being  a  Koman 
citizen.  Hermann,  furious  at  his  desertion  of  his 
country,  replied  to  him  with  curses,  as  the  only  lan- 
guage worthy  to  use  to  a  traitor,  and  would  have 
ridden  across  the  stream  to  kill  him,  but  that  he 
was  held  back  by  his  men. 

A  battle  soon  succeeded,  the  Germans  falling  into 


HERMANN,  THE  HERO  OF  GERMANY.       17 

an  ambuscade  artfully  laid  by  the  Eoman  leader,  and 
being  defeated  with  heavy  loss.  Germanicus  raised 
a  stately  monument  on  the  spot,  as  a  memorial  of 
his  victory.  The  sight  of  this  Eoman  monument 
in  their  country  infuriated  the  Germans,  and  they 
attacked  the  Romans  again,  this  time  with  such 
fury,  and  such  slaughter  on  both  sides,  that  neither 
party  was  able  to  resume  the  fight  when  the  next 
day  dawned.  Germanicus,  who  had  been  very 
severely  handled,  retreated  to  his  ships  and  set  sail. 
On  his  voyage  the  heavens  appeared  to  conspire 
against  him.  A  tempest  arose  in  which  most  of  the 
vessels  were  wrecked  and  many  of  the  legionaries 
lost.  When  he  returned  to  Eome,  shortly  after- 
wards, a  fort  on  the  Taunus  was  the  only  one  which 
Eome  possessed  in  Germany.  Hermann  had  cleared 
his  country  of  the  foe.  Yet  Germanicus  was  given 
a  triumph,  in  which  Thusnelda  walked,  laden  with 
chains,  to  the  capitol. 

The  remaining  events  in  the  life  of  this  champion 
of  German  liberty  were  few.  While  the  events  de- 
scribed had  been  taking  place  in  the  north  of  Ger- 
many, there  were  troubles  in  the  south.  Here  a 
chieftain  named  Marbodius,  who,  like  Hermann,  had 
passed  his  youth  in  the  Eoman  armies,  was  the  leader 
of  several  powerful  tribes.  He  lacked  the  patriotism 
of  Hermann,  and  sought  to  ally  himself  with  the 
Eomans,  with  the  hope  of  attaining  to  supreme  power 
in  Germany. 

Hermann  sought  to  rouse  patriotic  sentiments  in 
his  mind,  but  in  vain,  and  the  movements  of  Mar- 
oodius  having  revealed  his  purposes,  a  coalition  was 
iv.— b  2* 


18  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

formed  against  him,  with  Hermann  at  its  head.  He 
was  completely  defeated,  and  southern  Germany 
saved  from  .Roman  domination,  as  the  northern  dis- 
tricts had  already  been. 

Peace  followed,  and  for  several  years  Hermann 
remained  general-in-chief  of  the  German  people,  and 
the  acknowledged  bulwark  of  their  liberties.  But 
envy  arose;  he  was  maligned,  and  accused  of  aim- 
ing at  sovereignty,  as  Marbodius  had  done;  and  at 
length  his  own  relations,  growing  to  hate  and  fear 
him,  conspired  against  and  murdered  him. 

Thus  ignobly  fell  the  noblest  of  the  ancient  Ger- 
mans, the  man  whose  patriotism  saved  the  realm  of 
the  Teutonic  tribes  from  becoming  a  province  of  the 
empire  of  Rome.  Had  not  Hermann  lived,  the  his- 
tory of  Europe  might  have  pursued  a  different  course, 
and  the  final  downfall  of  the  colossus  of  the  south 
been  long  averted,  Germany  acting  as  its  bulwark  of 
defence  instead  of  becoming  the  nursery  of  its  foes. 


ALB 01  N  AND  ROSAMOND. 

Of  the  Teutonic  invaders  of  Italy  none  are  invested 
with  more  interest  than  the  Lombards, — the  Long 
Beards,  to  give  them  their  original  title.  Legend 
yields  us  the  story  of  their  origin,  a  story  of  interest 
enough  to  repeat.  A  famine  had  been  caused  in  Den- 
mark by  a  great  flood,  and  the  people,  to  avoid  danger 
of  starvation,  had  resolved  to  put  all  the  old  men  and 
women  to  death,  in  order  to  save  the  food  for  the 
young  and  strong.  This  radical  proposition  was  set 
aside  through  the  advice  of  a  wise  woman,  named 
Gambara,  who  suggested  that  lots  should  be  drawn 
for  the  migration  of  a  third  of  the  population.  Her 
counsel  was  taken  and  the  migration  began,  under 
the  leadership  of  her  two  sons.  These  migrants 
wore  beards  of  prodigious  length,  whence  their  sub- 
sequent name. 

They  first  entered  the  land  of  the  Yandals,  who 
refused  them  permission  to  settle.  This  was  a  ques- 
tion to  be  decided  at  sword's  point,  and  war  was 
declared.  Both  sides  appealed  to  the  gods  for  aid, 
Gambara  praying  to  Freya,  while  the  Yandals  in- 
voked Odin,  who  answered  that  he  would  grant  the 
victory  to  the  party  he  should  first  behold  at  thb 
dawn  of  the  coming  day. 

19 


20  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

The  day  came.  The  sun  rose.  In  front  of  the 
Danish  host  were  stationed  their  women,  who  had 
loosened  their  long  hair,  and  let  it  hang  down  over 
their  faces.  "  ^Yho  are  these  with  long  beards  ?" 
demanded  Odin,  on  seeing  these  Danish  amazona. 
This  settled  the  question  of  victory,  and  also  gave 
the  invaders  a  new  name,  that  of  Longobardi, — due, 
in  this  legend,  to  the  long  hair  of  the  women  instead 
of  the  long  beards  of  the  men.  There  are  other 
legends,  but  none  worth  repeating. 

The  story  of  their  king  Alboin,  with  whom  we  have 
particularly  to  deal,  begins,  however,  with  a  story 
which  may  be  in  part  legendary.  They  were  now 
in  hostile  relations  with  the  Gepidse,  the  first  nation 
to  throw  off  the  yoke  of  the  Huns.  Alboin,  son  of 
Audoin,  king  of  the  Longobardi,  killed  Thurismund, 
son  of  Turisend,  king  of  the  Gepidae,  in  battle,  but 
forgot  to  carry  away  his  arms,  and  thus  returned 
home  without  a  trophy  of  his  victory.  In  conse- 
quence, his  stern  father  refused  him  a  seat  at  his 
table,  as  one  unworthy  of  the  honor.  Such  was  the 
ancient  Lombard  custom,  and  it  must  be  obeyed. 

The  young  prince  acknowledged  the  justice  of  this 
reproof,  and  determined  to  try  and  obtain  the  arms 
which  were  his  by  right  of  victory.  Selecting  forty 
companions,  he  boldly  visited  the  court  of  Turisend, 
and  openly  demanded  from  him  the  arms  of  his  son. 
It  was  a  daring  movement,  but  proved  successful. 
The  old  king  received  him  hospitably,  as  the  custom 
of  the  time  demanded,  though  filled  with  grief  at 
the  loss  of  his  son.  He  even  protected  him  from  the 
anger  of  his  subjects,  whom  some  of  the  Lombards 


ALBOIN   AND   ROSAMOND.  21 

had  provoked  by  their  insolence  of  speech.  The 
daring  youth  returned  to  his  father's  court  with  the 
arms  of  his  slain  foe,  and  won  the  seat  of  honor  of 
which  he  had  been  deprived. 

Turisend  died,  and  Cunimund,  his  son,  became  king. 
Audoin  died,  and  Alboin  became  king.  And  now 
new  adventures  of  interest  occurred.  In  his  visit  to 
the  court  of  Turisend,  Alboin  had  seen  and  fallen  in 
love  with  Eosamond,  the  beautiful  daughter  of  Cuni- 
mund. He  now  demanded  her  hand  in  marriage, 
and  as  it  was  scornfully  refused  him,  he  revenged 
himself  by  winning  her  honor  through  force  and 
stratagem.  War  broke  out  in  consequence,  and  the 
Gepidse  were  conquered,  Eosamond  falling  to  Alboin 
as  part  of  the  trophies  of  victory. 

We  are  told  that  in  this  war  Alboin  sought  the  aid 
of  Bacan,  chagan  of  the  Avars,  promising  him  half 
the  spoil  and  all  the  land  of  the  Gepidse  in  case  of 
victory.  He  added  to  this  a  promise  of  the  realm  of 
the  Longobardi,  in  case  he  should  succeed  in  winning 
for  them  a  new  home  in  Italy,  which  country  he  pro- 
posed to  invade. 

About  fifteen  years  before,  some  of  his  subjects  had 
made  a  warlike  expedition  to  Italy.  Their  report  of 
its  beauty  and  fertility  had  kindled  a  spirit  of  emu- 
lation in  the  new  generation,  and  inspired  the  young 
and  warlike  king  with  ambitious  hopes.  His  elo- 
quence added  to  their  desire.  He  not  only  described 
to  them  in  glowing  words  the  land  of  promise  which 
he  hoped  to  win,  but  spoke  to  their  senses  as  well,  by 
producing  at  the  royal  banquets  the  fairest  fruits 
that  grew  in  that  garden  land  of  Europe.     His  efforts 


22  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

were  successful.  No  sooner  was  his  standard  erected, 
and  word  sent  abroad  that  Italy  was  his  goal,  than 
the  Longobardi  found  their  strength  augmented  by 
hosts  of  adventurous  youths  from  the  surrounding 
peoples.  Germans,  Bulgarians,  Scythians,  and  others 
joined  in  ranks,  and  twenty  thousand  Saxon  warriors, 
with  their  wives  and  children,  added  to  the  great 
host  which  had  nocked  to  the  banners  of  the  already 
renowned  warrior. 

It  was  in  the  year  568  that  Alboin,  followed  by  the 
great  multitude  of  adventurers  he  had  gathered,  and 
by  the  whole  nation  of  the  Longobardi,  ascended 
the  Julian  Alps,  and  looked  down  from  their  summits 
on  the  smiling  plains  of  northern  Italy  to  which  his 
success  was  thenceforward  to  give  the  name  of  Lom- 
bardy,  the  land  of  the  Longobardi. 

Four  years  were  spent  in  war  with  the  Eomans, 
city  after  city,  district  after  district,  falling  into  the 
hands  of  the  invaders.  The  resistance  was  but 
feeble,  and  at  length  the  whole  country  watered  by 
the  Po,  with  the  strong  city  of  Pavia,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  Alboin,  who  divided  the  conquered  lands 
among  his  followers,  and  reduced  their  former 
holders  to  servitude.  Alboin  made  Pavia  his  capital, 
and  erected  strong  fortifications  to  keep  out  the 
Burgundians,  Franks,  and  other  nations  which  were 
troubling  his  new-gained  dominions.  This  done,  he 
settled  down  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  conquest  which 
he  had  so  ably  made  and  so  skilfully  defended. 

History  tells  us  that  the  Longobardi  cultivated 
their  new  lands  so  skilfully  that  all  traces  of  devas- 
tation soon  vanished,  and  the  realm  grew  rich  in 


ALBOIN   AND   ROSAMOND.  23 

its  productions.  Their  freemen  distinguished  them- 
selves from  the  other  German  conquerors  by  labor- 
ing to  turn  the  waste  and  desert  tracts  into  arable 
soil,  while  their  king,  though  unceasingly  watchful 
against  his  enemies,  lived  among  his  people  with  pa- 
triarchal simplicity,  procuring  his  supplies  from  the 
produce  of  his  farms,  and  making  regular  rounds  of 
inspection  from  one  to  another.  It  is  a  picture  fitted 
for  a  more  peaceful  and  primitive  age  than  that  tur- 
bulent period  in  which  it  is  set. 

But  now  we  have  to  do  with  Alboin  in  another  as- 
pect,— his  domestic  relations,  his  dealings  with  his 
wife  Eosamond,  and  the  tragic  end  of  all  the  actors 
in  the  drama  of  real  life  which  we  have  set  out  to 
tell.  The  Longobardi  were  barbarians,  and  Alboin 
was  no  better  than  his  people;  a  strong  evidence 
of  which  is  the  fact  that  he  had  the  skull  of  Cuni- 
mund,  his  defeated  enemy  and  the  father  of  his  wife, 
set  in  gold,  and  used  it  as  a  drinking  cup  at  his 
banquets. 

Doubtless  this  brutality  stirred  revengeful  senti 
ments  in  the  mind  of  Eosamond.  An  added  instance 
of  barbarian  insult  converted  her  outraged  feelings 
into  a  passion  for  revenge.  Alboin  had  erected  a 
palace  near  Yerona,  one  of  the  cities  of  his  new  do- 
minion, and  here  he  celebrated  his  victories  with  a 
grand  feast  to  his  companions  in  arms.  "Wine  flowed 
freely  at  the  banquet,  the  king  emulating,  or  exceed- 
ing, his  guests  in  the  art  of  imbibing.  Heated  with 
his  potations,  in  which  he  had  drained  many  cups  of 
Ehaetian  or  Falernian  wine,  he  called  for  the  choicest 
ornament  of  his  sideboard,  the  gold-mounted  skull  of 


24  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Cunimund,  and  drank  its  full  measure  of  wine  aniid 
the  loud  plaudits  of  his  drunken  guests. 

"  Fill  it  again  with  wine,"  he  cried ;  "  fill  it  to  tho 
brim ;  carry  this  goblet  to  the  queen,  and  tell  her 
that  it  is  my  desire  and  command  that  she  shall 
rejoice  with  her  father." 

Eosamond's  heart  throbbed  with  grief  and  rage 
on  hearing  this  inhuman  request.  She  took  the 
skull  in  trembling  hands,  and  murmuring  in  low 
accents,  "  Let  the  will  of  my  lord  be  obeyed,"  she 
touched  it  to  her  lips.  But  in  doing  so  she  breathed 
a  silent  prayer,  and  resolved  that  the  unpardonable 
insult  should  be  washed  out  in  Alboin's  blood. 

If  she  had  ever  loved  her  lord,  she  felt  now  for 
him  only  the  bitterness  of  hate.  She  had  a  friend  in 
the  court  on  whom  she  could  depend.  Helmichis.  the 
armor-bearer  of  the  king.  She  called  on  him  for 
aid  in  her  revenge,  and  found  him  willing  but  fear- 
ful, for  he  knew  too  well  the  great  strength  and 
daring  spirit  of  the  chief  whom  he  had  so  often  at- 
tended in  battle.  He  proposed,  therefore,  that  they 
should  gain  the  aid  of  a  Lombard  of  unequalled 
strength,  Peredeus  by  name.  This  champion,  how- 
ever, was  not  easily  to  be  won.  The  project  was 
broached  to  him,  but  the  most  that  could  be  gained 
from  him  was  a  promise  of  silence. 

Failing  in  this,  more  shameful  methods  were  em- 
ployed. Such  was  Eosamond's  passion  for  revenge 
that  the  most  extreme  measures  seemed  to  her  justi- 
fiable. Peredeus  loved  one  of  the  attendants  of  the 
queen.  Eosamond  replaced  this  frail  woman,  sacri- 
ficed her  honor  to  her  vengeance,  and  then  threatened 


ALBOIN   AND   ROSAMOND.  25 

to  denounce  Peredeus  to  the  king  unless  he  would 
kill  the  man  who  had  so  bitterly  wronged  her. 

Peredeus  now  consented.  He  must  kill  the  king 
or  the  king  would  kill  him,  for  he  felt  that  Eosa- 
mond  was  quite  capable  of  carrying  out  her  threat. 
Having  thus  obtained  the  promise  of  the  instruments 
of  her  vengeance,  the  queen  waited  for  a  favorable 
moment  to  carry  out  her  dark  design.  The  oppor- 
tunity soon  came.  The  king,  heavy  with  wine,  had 
retired  from  the  table  to  his  afternoon  slumbers. 
Eosamond,  affecting  solicitude  for  his  health  and 
repose,  dismissed  his  attendants,  closed  the  palace 
gates,  and  then,  seeking  her  spouse,  lulled  him  to 
rest  by  her  tender  caresses. 

Finding  that  he  slumbered,  she  unbolted  the  cham- 
ber door,  and  urged  her  confederates  to  the  instant 
performance  of  the  deed  of  blood.  They  entered 
the  room  with  stealthy  tread,  but  the  quick  senses 
of  the  warrior  took  the  alarm,  he  opened  his  eyes, 
saw  two  armed  men  advancing  upon  him,  and  sprang 
from  his  couch.  His  sword  hung  beside  him,  and  he 
attempted  to  draw  it,  but  the  cunning  hand  of  Eosa- 
mond had  fastened  it  securely  in  the  scabbard.  The 
only  weapon  remaining  was  a  small  foot- stool.  This 
he  used  with  vigor,  but  it  could  not  long  protect  him 
from  the  spears  of  his  assailants,  and  he  quickly  fell 
dead  beneath  their  blows.  His  body  was  buried  be- 
neath the  stairway  of  the  palace,  and  thus  tragically 
ended  the  career  of  the  founder  of  the  kingdom  of 
Lombardy. 

But  the  story  of  Eosamond's  life  is  not  yet  at  an 
end.  The  death  of  Alboin  was  followed  by  another 
b  3 


26  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

tragic  event,  which  brought  her  guilty  career  to  a 
violent  termination.  The  wily  queen  had  not  failed 
to  prepare  for  the  disturbances  which  might  follow 
the  death  of  the  king.  The  murder  of  Alboin  was 
immediately  followed  by  her  marriage  with  Hel- 
michis,  whose  ambition  looked  to  no  less  a  prize  than 
the  throne  of  Lombardy.  The  queen  was  surrounded 
by  a  band  of  faithful  Gepidae,  with  whose  aid  she 
seized  the  palace  and  made  herself  mistress  of 
Verona,  the  Lombard  chiefs  flying  in  alarm.  But 
the  assassination  of  the  king  who  had  so  often  led 
them  to  victory  filled  the  Longobardi  with  indigna- 
tion, the  chiefs  mustered  their  bands  and  led  them 
against  the  stronghold  of  the  guilty  couple,  and  they 
in  their  turn,  were  forced  to  fly  for  their  lives.  Hel- 
michis  and  Eosamond,  with  her  daughter,  her  faith- 
ful Gepidae,  and  the  spoils  of  the  palace,  took  ship 
down  the  Adige  and  the  Po,  and  were  transported 
in  a  Greek  vessel  to  the  port  of  Eavenna,  where 
they  hoped  to  find  shelter  and  safety. 

Longinus,  the  Greek  governor  of  Eavenna,  gave 
willing  refuge  to  the  fugitives,  the  more  so  as  the 
great  beauty  of  Eosamond  filled  him  with  admiration. 
She  had  not  been  long  there,  indeed,  before  he  offered 
her  his  hand  in  marriage.  Eosamond,  moved  by 
ambition  or  a  return  of  his  love,  accepted  his  offer. 
There  was,  it  is  true,  an  obstacle  in  the  way.  She  was 
already  provided  with  a  husband.  But  the  barbarian 
queen  had  learned  the  art  of  getting  rid  of  incon- 
venient husbands.  Having,  perhaps,  grown  to  detest 
the  tool  of  her  revenge,  now  that  the  purpose  of  her 
marriage  with  him  had  failed,  she  set  herself  to  the 


ALBOIN  AND   ROSAMOND.  27 

task  of  disposing  of  Helmichis,  this  time  using  the 
cup  instead  of  the  sword. 

As  Helmichis  left  the  bath  he  received  a  wine-cup 
from  the  hands  of  his  treacherous  wife,  and  lifted  it 
to  his  lips.  But  no  sooner  had  he  tasted  the  liquor, 
and  felt  the  shock  that  it  gave  his  system,  than  he 
knew  that  he  was  poisoned.  Death,  a  speedy  death, 
was  in  his  veins,  but  he  had  life  enough  left  for  re- 
venge. Seizing  his  dagger,  he  pressed  it  to  the  breast 
of  Eosamond,  and  by  threats  of  instant  death  com- 
pelled her  to  drain  the  remainder  of  the  cup.  In  a 
few  minutes  both  the  guilty  partners  in  the  death  of 
Alboin  had  breathed  their  last. 

When  Longinus  was,  at  a  later  moment,  summoned 
into  the  room,  it  was  to  find  his  late  guests  both  dead 
upon  the  floor.  The  poison  had  faithfully  done  its 
work.  Thus  ended  a  historic  tragedy  than  which 
the  stage  possesses  few  of  more  striking  diamatio 
interest  and  opportunities  for  histrionic  effect 


THE  CAREER   OF  GRIMOALD. 

The  Avars,  led  by  Cacan,  their  king,  crossed,  in 
the  year  611,  the  mountains  of  Illyria  and  Lom- 
bardy,  killed  Gisulph,  the  grand  duke,  with  all  his 
adherents,  in  battle,  and  laid  siege  to  the  city  of 
Friuli,  behind  whose  strong  walls  Eomilda,  the 
widow  of  Gisulph,  had  taken  refuge.  These  events 
formed  the  basis  of  the  romantic,  and  perhaps  largely 
legendary,  story  we  have  to  tell. 

One  day,  so  we  are  told,  Eomilda,  gazing  from  the 
ramparts  of  the  city,  beheld  Cacan,  the  young  khan 
of  the  Avars,  engaged  in  directing  the  siege.  So 
handsome  to  her  eyes  appeared  the  youthful  soldier 
that  she  fell  deeply  in  love  with  him  at  sight,  her 
passion  growing  until,  in  disregard  of  honor  and 
patriotism,  she  sent  him  a  secret  message,  offering 
to  deliver  up  to  him  the  city  on  condition  of 
becoming  his  wife.  The  khan,  though  doubtless 
despising  her  treachery  to  her  people,  was  quick  to 
close  with  the  offer,  and  in  a  short  time  Friuli  was 
in  his  hands. 

This  accomplished,  he  returned  to  Hungary,  tak- 
ing with  him  Eomilda  and  her  children,  of  whom 
there  were  four  sons  and  four  daughters.  Cacan 
kept  his  compact  with  the  traitress,  marrying  her 
28 


THE   CAREER   OP   GRIMOALD.  29 

with  the  primitive  rites  of  the  Hungarians.  But  her 
married  life  was  of  the  shortest.  He  had  kept  his 
word,  and  such  honor  as  he  possessed  was  satisfied. 
The  morning  after  his  marriage,  moved  perhaps  by 
detestation  of  her  treachery,  he  caused  the  hapless 
Komilda  to  be  impaled  alive.  It  was  a  dark  end  to 
a  dark  deed,  and  the  perfidy  of  the  woman  had  been 
matched  by  an  equal  perfidy  on  the  part  of  the  man. 

The  children  of  Komilda  were  left  in  the  hands 
of  the  Avars.  Of  her  daughters,  one  subsequently 
married  a  duke  of  Bavaria  and  another  a  duke 
of  Allemania.  The  four  sons,  one  of  whom  was 
Grimoald,  the  hero  of  our  story,  managed  to  escape 
from  their  savage  captors,  though  they  were  hotly 
pursued.  In  their  flight,  G-rimoald,  the  youngest,  was 
taken  up  behind  Tafo,  the  oldest ;  but  in  the  rapid 
course  he  lost  his  hold  and  fell  from  his  brother's 
horse. 

Tafo,  knowing  what  would  be  the  fate  of  the  boy 
should  he  be  captured,  turned  and  galloped  upon  him 
lance  in  hand,  determined  that  he  should  not  fall 
alive  into  the  hands  of  his  cruel  foes.  But  Grim- 
oald's  entreaties  and  Tafo's  brotherly  affection  in- 
duced him  to  change  his  resolution,  and,  snatching 
up  the  boy,  he  continued  his  flight,  the  pursuing 
Avars  being  now  close  at  hand. 

Not  far  had  they  ridden  before  the  same  accident 
occurred.  Grimoald  again  fell,  and  Tafo  was  now 
obliged  to  leave  him  to  his  fate,  the  fierce  pursuers 
being  too  near  to  permit  him  either  to  kill  or  save 
the  unlucky  boy.  On  swept  Tafo,  up  swept  the 
Avars,  and  one  of  them,  halting,  seized  the  young 
3* 


30  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

captive,  threw  hiin  behind  him  on  his  horse,  and 
rode  on  after  his  fellows. 

Gimoald's  peril  was  imminent,  but  he  was  a  child 
with  the  soul  of  a  warrior.  As  his  captor  pushed  on 
in  the  track  of  his  companions,  the  brave  little  fel- 
low suddenly  snatched  a  knife  from  his  belt,  and  in 
an  instant  had  stabbed  him  to  the  heart  with  his  own 
weapon.  Tossing  the  dead  body  from  the  saddle, 
Grimoald  seized  the  bridle  and  rode  swiftly  on,  avoid- 
ing the  Avars,  and  in  the  end  rejoining  his  flying 
brothers.  It  was  a  deed  worthy  the  childhood  of 
one  who  was  in  time  to  become  a  famous  warrior. 

The  fugitives  reached  Lombardy,  w^here  Tafo  was 
hospitably  received  by  the  king,  and  succeeded  his 
father  as  Grand  Duke  of  Friuli.  Grimoald  was 
adopted  by  Arigil,  Duke  of  Benevento,  in  whose  court 
he  grew  to  manhood,  and  in  whose  service  his  courage 
and  military  ability  were  quickly  shown.  There  were 
wars  between  Benevento  and  the  Greeks  of  southern 
Italy,  and  in  these  the  young  soldier  so  greatly  distin- 
guished himself  that  on  the  death  of  Arigil  he  suc- 
ceeded him  as  Duke  of  Benevento. 

Meanwhile,  troubles  arose  in  Lombardy.  Tafo  had 
been  falsely  accused,  by  an  enemy  of  the  queen,  of 
criminal  relations  with  her.  and  was  put  to  death  by 
the  king.  Her  innocence  was  afterwards  proved, 
and  on  the  death  of  Ariowald  the  Lombards  treated 
her  with  the  greatest  respect,  and  raised  Rotharis, 
her  second  husband,  to  the  throne.  He,  too,  died, 
and  Aribert,  uncle  of  the  queen,  was  next  made  king. 
On  his  death,  his  two  sons,  Bertarit  and  Godebert, 
disputed  the  succession.    A  struggle  ensued  between 


THS    CAREER   OP    GRIMOALD.  31 

the  rival  brothers,  in  the  course  of  which  Griinoald 
was  brought  into  the  dispute. 

The  events  here  briefly  described  had  taken  place 
while  Grimoald  was  engaged  in  the  Greek  wars  of 
his  patron,  Duke  Arigil.  When  he  succeeded  the 
latter  in  the  ducal  chair,  the  struggle  between  Ber- 
tarit  and  Godebert  was  going  on,  and  the  new  Duke 
of  Benevento  declared  in  favor  of  the  latter,  who 
was  his  personal  friend. 

A  scheme  of  treachery,  of  a  singular  character, 
put  an  end  to  their  friendship  and  to  the  life  of  Gode- 
bert. A  man  who  was  skilled  in  the  arts  of  dissimu- 
lation, and  who  was  secretly  in  the  pay  of  Bertarit, 
persuaded  Godebert  that  his  seeming  friend,  Duke 
Grimoald,  was  really  his  enemy,  and  was  plotting  his 
destruction.  He  told  the  same  story  to  Grimoald, 
making  him  believe  that  Godebert  was  his  secret  foe. 
In  proof  of  his  words  he  told  each  of  them  that  the 
other  wore  armor  beneath  his  clothes,  through  fear 
of  assassination  by  his  assumed  friend. 

The  suspicion  thus  artfully  aroused  produced  the 
very  state  of  things  which  the  agent  of  mischief 
had  declared  to  exist.  Each  of  the  friends  put  on 
armor,  as  a  protection  against  treachery  from  the 
other,  and  when  they  sought  to  test  the  truth  of  the 
spy's  story  it  seemed  fully  confirmed.  Each  dis- 
covered that  the  other  wore  secret  armor,  without 
learning  that  it  had  just  been  assumed. 

The  two  close  friends  were  thus  converted  by  a 
plotting  Iago  into  distrustful  enemies,  each  fearing 
and  on  guard  against  assassination  by  the  other. 
The  affair  ended  tragically.     Grimoald  was  no  sooner 


32  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

fully  convinced  of  the  truth  of  what  had  been  told 
him  than  he  slew  his  supposed  enemy,  deeming  it 
necessary  to  save  his  own  life.  The  dark  scheme  had 
succeeded.  Treason  and  falsehood  had  sown  death 
between  two  frieuds. 

Bertarit,  his  rival  removed,  deemed  the  throne 
now  securely  his.  But  the  truth  underlying  the 
tragedy  we  have  described  became  known,  and  the 
Lombards,  convinced  of  the  innocence  of  Grimoald, 
and  scorning  the  treachery  by  which  he  had  been 
led  on  to  murder,  dismissed  Bertarit's  pretensions 
and  placed  Grimoald  on  the  throne.  His  career  had 
been  a  strange  but  highly  successful  one.  From  his 
childhood  captivity  to  the  Avars  he  had  risen  to  the 
high  station  of  King  of  Lombardy,  a  position  fairly 
earned  by  his  courage  and  ability. 

We  are  not  yet  done  with  the  story  of  this  distin- 
guished warrior.  Bertarit  had  taken  the  field  against 
him,  and  civil  war  desolated  Lombardy,  an  unhappy 
state  of  affairs  which  was  soon  taken  advantage  of 
by  the  foes  of  the  distracted  kingdom.  The  enemy 
who  now  appeared  in  the  field  was  Constans,  the 
Greek  emperor,  who  laid  siege  to  Benevento,  hoping 
to  capture  it  while  Grimoald  was  engaged  in  hostili- 
ties with  Bertarit  in  the  north. 

Grimoald  had  left  his  son,  Romuald,  in  charge  of 
the  city.  On  learning  of  the  siege  he  despatched  a 
trusty  friend  and  officer,  Sesuald  by  name,  with  some 
troops,  to  the  relief  of  the  beleaguered  stronghold, 
proposing  to  follow  quickly  himself  with  the  main 
body  of  his  army. 

And  now  occurred  an  event  nobly  worthy  of  being 


THE   CAREER   OP   GRIMOALD.  33 

recorded  in  the  annals  of  human  probity  and  faith- 
fulness, one  little  known,  but  deserving  to  be  classed 
with  those  that  have  become  famous  in  history. 
When  men  erect  monuments  to  courage  and  virtue, 
the  noble  Sesuald  should  not  be  forgotten. 

This  brave  man  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  emperor, 
who  sought  to  use  him  in  a  stratagem  to  obtain  pos- 
session of  Benevento.  He  promised  him  an  abun- 
dance of  wealth  and  honors  if  he  would  tell  Eomuald 
that  his  father  had  died  in  battle,  and  persuade  him 
to  surrender  the  city.  Sesuald  seems  to  have  agreed, 
for  he  was  led  to  the  walls  of  the  city  that  he  might 
hold  the  desired  conference  with  Eomuald.  Instead, 
however,  of  carrying  out  the  emperor's  design,  he 
cried  out  to  the  young  chief,  "Be  firm,  Grimoald 
approaches ;"  then,  hastily  telling  him  that  he  had 
forfeited  his  life  by  those  words,  he  begged  him  in 
return  to  protect  his  wife  and  children,  as  the  last 
service  he  could  render  him. 

Sesuald  was  right.  Constans,  furious  at  his  words, 
had  his  head  instantly  struck  off;  and  then,  with  a 
barbarism  worthy  of  the  times,  had  it  flung  from  a 
catapult  into  the  heart  of  the  city.  The  ghastly 
trophy  was  brought  to  Eomuald,  who  pressed  it  to 
his  lips,  and  deeply  deplored  the  death  of  his  father's 
faithful  friend. 

This  was  the  last  effort  of  the  emperor.  Fearing 
to  await  the  arrival  of  Grimoald,  he  raised  the  siege 
and  retreated  towards  Naples,  hotly  pursued  by  the 
Lombards.  The  army  of  Grimoald  came  up  with 
the  retreating  Greeks,  and  a  battle  was  imminent, 
when  a  Lombard  warrior  of  giant  size,  Amalong  by 

IT.— « 


34  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

name,  spurring  upon  a  Greek,  lifted  him  from  the 
saddle  with  his  lance,  and  rode  on  holding  him  poised 
in  the  air.  The  sight  of  this  feat  filled  the  remain- 
ing Greeks  with  such  terror  that  they  broke  and 
fled,  and  their  hasty  retreat  did  not  cease  till  they 
had  found  shelter  in  Sicily. 

After  this  event  Bertarit,  finding  it  useless  to  con- 
tend longer  against  his  powerful  and  able  opponent, 
submitted  to  Grimoald.  Yet  this  did  not  end  their 
hostile  relations.  The  Lombard  king,  distrusting  his 
late  foe,  of  wh^se  treacherous  disposition  he  already 
had  abundant  evidence,  laid  a  plan  to  get  rid  of  him 
by  murdering  him  in  his  bed.  This  plot  was  dis- 
covered by  a  servant  of  the  imperilled  prince,  who 
aided  his  master  to  escape,  and,  the  better  to  secure 
his  retreat,  placed  himself  in  his  bed,  being  willing 
to  risk  death  in  his  lord's  service. 

Grimoald  discovered  the  stratagem  of  the  faithful 
fellow,  but,  instead  of  punishing  him  for  it,  he  sought 
to  reward  him,  attempting  to  attach  him  to  his  own 
service  as  one  whose  fidelity  would  make  him  valu- 
able to  any  master.  The  honest  servant  refused, 
however,  to  desert  his  old  lord  for  a  new  service,  and 
entreated  so  earnestly  for  permission  to  join  his 
master,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  France,  that  Grim- 
oald set  him  free,  doubtless  feeling  that  such  faith- 
fulness was  worthy  of  encouragement. 

In  France  Bertarit  found  an  ally  in  Chlotar  II., 
who  took  up  arms  against  the  Lombards  in  his  aid. 
Grimoald,  however,  defeated  him  by  a  shrewd  strata- 
gem. He  feigned  to  retreat  in  haste,  leaving  his 
camp,  which  was  well  stored  with  provisions,  to  fall 


THE   CAREER   OP   GRIMOALD.  35 

into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  Deeming  themselves 
victorious,  the  Franks  hastened  to  enjoy  the  feast  of 
good  things  which  the  Lombards  had  left  behind. 
But  in  the  midst  of  their  repast  Grimoald  suddenly 
returned,  and,  falling  upon  them  impetuously,  put 
most  of  them  to  the  sword. 

In  the  following  year  (666  a.d.)  he  defeated  an- 
other army  by  another  stratagem.  The  Avars  had 
invaded  Lombardy,  with  an  army  which  far  out- 
numbered the  troops  which  Grimoald  could  muster 
against  them.  In  this  state  of  affairs  he  artfully 
deceived  his  foes  as  to  the  strength  of  his  army 
by  marching  and  countermarching  his  men  within 
their  view,  each  time  dressed  in  uniform  of  different 
colors,  and  with  varied  standards  and  insignia  of 
war.  The  invaders,  deeming  that  an  army  confronted 
them  far  stronger  than  their  own,  withdrew  in  haste, 
leaving  Grimoald  master  of  the  field. 

We  are  further  told  of  the  king  of  the  Lombards 
whose  striking  history  we  have  concisely  given,  that 
he  gave  many  new  laws  to  his  country,  and  that  in 
his  old  age  he  was  remarkable  for  his  bald  head  and 
long  white  beard.  He  died  in  671,  sixty  years  after 
the  time  when  his  mother  acted  the  traitress,  and 
suffered  miserably  for  her  crime.  After  his  death, 
the  exiled  Bertarit  was  recalled  to  the  throne  of 
Lombardy,  and  Eomuald  succeeded  his  father  as 
Duke  of  Benevento,  the  city  which  he  had  held  so 
bravely  against  the  Greeks. 


WITTEKIND,  THE  SAXON 
PATRIOT. 

As  Germany,  in  its  wars  with  the  Komans,  found 
its  hero  in  the  great  Arminius,  or  Hermann  ;  and  as 
England,  in  its  contest  with  the  Normans,  found  a 
heroic  defender  in  the  valiant  Hereward ;  so  Saxony, 
in  its  struggle  with  Charlemagne,  gave  origin  to  a 
great  soul,  the  indomitable  patriot  Wittekind,  who 
kept  the  war  afoot  years  after  the  Saxons  would  have 
yielded  to  their  mighty  foe,  and,  like  Hereward,  only 
gave  up  the  struggle  when  hope  itself  was  at  an  end. 

The  career  of  the  defender  of  Saxony  bears  some 
analogy  to  that  of  the  last  patriot  of  Saxon  England. 
As  in  the  case  of  Hereward,  his  origin  is  uncertain, 
and  the  story  of  his  life  overlaid  with  legend.  He 
is  said  to  have  been  the  son  of  Wernekind,  a  power- 
ful Westphalian  chief,  brother-in-law  of  Siegfried, 
king  of  the  Danes ;  yet  this  is  by  no  means  certain, 
and  his  ancestry  must  remain  in  doubt.  He  came 
suddenly  into  the  war  with  the  great  French  con- 
queror, and  played  in  it  a  strikingly  prominent  part, 
to  sink  again  out  of  sight  at  its  end. 

The  attempt  of  Charlemagne  to  conquer  Saxony 
began  in  772.     Eeligion  was  its  pretext,  ambition  its 
real  cause.     Missionaries  had  been  sent  to  the  Saxons 
86 


WITTEKIND,    THE   SAXON   PATRIOT.  37 

during  their  great  national  festival  at  Marclo.  They 
came  back  with  no  converts  to  report.  As  the 
Saxons  had  refused  to  be  converted  by  words,  fire 
and  sword  were  next  tried  as  gentle  instruments 
for  spreading  the  doctrines  of  Christ,  and  effective 
means  for  extending  the  dominion  of  the  monarch  of 
France. 

In  his  first  campaign  in  Saxony,  Charlemagne 
marched  victoriously  as  far  as  the  Weser,  where  he 
destroyed  the  celebrated  Irminsiil,  a  famous  object 
of  Saxon  devotion,  perhaps  an  image  of  a  god,  per- 
haps a  statue  of  Hermann  that  had  become  invested 
with  divinity.  The  next  year,  Charles  being  absent 
in  Italy,  the  Saxons  broke  into  insurrection,  under 
the  leadership  of  Wittekind,  who  now  first  appears 
in  history.  With  him  was  associated  another  patriot, 
Alboin,  Duke  of  Eastphalia. 

Charles  returned  in  the  succeeding  year,  and  again 
swept  in  conquering  force  through  the  country.  But 
a  new  insurrection  called  him  once  more  to  Italy, 
and  no  sooner  had  he  gone  than  the  eloquent  Witte- 
kind was  among  his  countrymen,  entreating  them  to 
rise  in  defence  of  their  liberties.  A  general  levy 
took  place,  every  able  man  crowded  to  the  ranks,  and 
whole  forests  were  felled  to  form  abatis  of  defence 
against  a  marching  enemy. 

Again  Charles  came  at  the  head  of  his  army  of 
veterans,  and  again  the  poorly-trained  Saxon  levies 
were  driven  in  defeat  from  his  front.  He  now  es- 
tablished a  camp  in  the  heart  of  the  country,  and 
had  a  royal  residence  built  at  Paderborn,  where  he 
held  a  diet  of  the  great  vassals  of  the  crown  and 

4 


38  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

received  envoys  from  foreign  lands.  Hither  came 
delegates  from  the  humbled  Saxons,  promising  peace 
and  submission,  and  pledging  themselves  by  oaths 
and  hostages  to  be  true  subjects  of  Charles  the  Great. 
But  Wittekind  came  not.  He  had  taken  refuge  at 
the  court  of  Siegfried,  the  pagan  king  of  Denmark, 
where  he  waited  an  opportunity  to  strike  a  new  blow 
for  liberty. 

Not  content  with  their  pledges  and  promises,  the 
conqueror  sought  to  win  over  his  new  subjects  by 
converting  them  to  Christianity  in  the  wholesale 
way  in  which  this  work  was  then  usually  performed. 
The  Saxons  were  baptized  in  large  numbers,  the 
proselyting  method  pursued  being,  as  we  are  told, 
that  all  prisoners  of  war  must  be  baptized,  while  of 
the  others  all  who  were  reasonable  would  be  baptized, 
and  the  inveterately  unreasonable  might  be  bribed  to 
be  baptized.  Doubtless,  as  a  historian  remarks,  the 
Saxons  found  baptism  a  cool,  cleanly,  and  agreeable 
ceremony,  while  their  immersion  in  the  water  had 
little  effect  in  washing  out  their  old  ideas  and  wash- 
ing in  new  ones. 

The  exigencies  of  war  in  his  vast  empire  now 
called  Charlemagne  to  Spain,  where  the  Arabs  had 
become  troublesome  and  needed  chastisement.  Not 
far  had  he  marched  away  when  Wittekind  was  again 
in  Saxony,  passing  from  tribe  to  tribe  through  the 
forests  of  the  land,  and  with  fiery  eloquence  calling 
upon  his  countrymen  to  rise  against  the  invaders 
and  regain  the  freedom  of  which  they  had  been 
deprived.  Heedless  of  their  conversion,  disregard- 
ing their  oaths  of  allegiance,  filled  with  the  free  spirit 


WITTEKIND,    THE   SAXON   PATRIOT.  39 

which  had  so  long  inspired  them,  the  chiefs  and 
people  listened  with  approval  to  his  burning  words, 
seized  their  arms,  and  flew  again  to  war.  The  priests 
were  expelled  from  the  country,  the  churches  they 
had  built  demolished,  the  castles  erected  by  the 
French  taken  and  destroyed,  and  the  country  was 
laid  waste  up  to  the  walls  of  Cologne,  its  Christian 
inhabitants  being  exterminated. 

But  unyielding  as  Wittekind  was,  his  great  antag- 
onist was  equally  resolute  and  persistent.  When  he 
had  finished  his  work  with  the  Arabs,  he  returned 
to  Saxony  with  his  whole  army,  fought  a  battle  in 
779  in  the  dry  bed  of  the  Eder,  and  in  780  defeated 
Wittekind  and  his  followers  in  two  great  battles, 
completely  disorganizing  and  discouraging  the  Saxon 
bands,  and  again  bringing  the  whole  country  under 
his  control.  This  accomplished,  he  stationed  himself 
in  their  country,  built  numerous  fortresses  upon  the 
Elbe,  and  spent  the  summer  of  780  in  missionary 
work,  gaining  a  multitude  of  converts  among  the 
seemingly  subdued  barbarians.  The  better  to  make 
them  content  with  his  rule  he  treated  them  with 
great  kindness  and  affability,  and  sent  among  them 
missionaries  of  their  own  race,  being  the  hostages 
whom  he  had  taken  in  previous  years,  and  who  had 
been  educated  in  monasteries.  All  went  well,  the 
Saxons  were  to  all  appearance  in  a  state  of  peaceful 
satisfaction,  and  Charles  felicitated  himself  that  he 
had  finally  added  Saxony  to  his  empire. 

He  deceived  himself  sadly.  He  did  not  know  the 
spirit  of  the  free-born  Saxons,  or  the  unyielding 
perseverance  of  their  patriotic  leader.     In  the  silent 


40  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

depths  of  their  forests,  and  in  the  name  of  their 
ancient  gods,  they  vowed  destruction  to  the  invading 
French,  and  branded  as  traitors  all  those  who  pro- 
fessed Christianity  except  as  a  stratagem  to  deceive 
their  powerful  enemy.  Entertaining  no  suspicion  of 
the  true  state  of  affairs,  Charlemagne  at  length  left 
the  country,  which  he  fancied  to  be  fully  pacified  and 
its  people  content.  With  complete  confidence  in  his 
new  subjects,  he  commissioned  his  generals,  G-eil  and 
Adalgis,  to  march  upon  the  Slavonians  beyond  the 
Elbe,  who  were  threatening  France  with  a  new  bar- 
barian invasion. 

They  soon  learned  that  there  was  other  work  to 
do.  In  a  brief  time  the  irrepressible  Wittekind  was 
in  the  field  again,  with  a  new  levy  of  Saxons  at  his 
back,  and  the  tranquillity  of  the  land,  established  at 
such  pains,  was  once  more  in  peril.  Theoderic,  one 
of  Charlemagne's  principal  generals,  hastily  marched 
towards  them  with  what  men  he  could  raise,  and  on 
his  way  met  the  army  sent  to  repel  the  Slavonians. 
They  approached  the  Saxon  host  where  it  lay  en- 
camped on  the  Weser,  behind  the  Sundel  mountain, 
and  laid  plans  to  attack  it  on  both  sides  at  once. 
But  jealousy  ruined  these  plans,  as  it  has  many  other 
well-laid  schemes.  The  leaders  of  the  Slavonian  con- 
tingent, eager  to  rob  Theoderic  of  glory,  marched  in 
haste  on  the  Saxons,  attacked  them  in  their  camp, 
and  were  so  completely  defeated  and  overthrown 
that  but  a  moity  of  their  army  escaped  from  the 
field.  The  appearance  of  these  fugitives  in  the  camp 
of  Theoderic  was  the  first  he  knew  of  the  treachery 
of  his  fellow-generals  and  their  signal  punishment. 


WITTEKIND,    THE   SAXON   PATRIOT.  41 

The  story  of  this  dreadful  event  was  in  all  haste 
borne  to  Charlemagne.  His  army  had  been  destroyed 
almost  as  completely  as  that  of  Yarus  on  a  former 
occasion,  and  in  nearly  the  same  country.  The  dis- 
tressing tidings  filled  his  soul  with  rage  and  a  bitter 
thirst  for  revenge.  He  had  done  his  utmost  to  win 
over  the  Saxons  by  lenity  and  kindness,  but  this 
course  now  seemed  to  him  useless,  if  not  worse  than 
useless.  He  determined  to  adopt  opposite  measures 
and  try  the  effect  of  cruelty  and  severe  retribution. 
Calling  together  his  forces  until  he  had  a  great  army 
under  his  command,  he  marched  into  Saxony  torch 
and  sword  in  hand,  and  swept  the  country  with  fire 
and  steel.  All  who  would  not  embrace  Christianity 
were  pitilessly  exterminated.  Thousands  were  driven 
into  the  rivers  to  be  baptized  or  drowned.  Carnage, 
desolation,  and  destruction  marked  the  path  of  the 
conqueror.  Never  had  a  country  been  more  fright- 
fully devastated  by  the  hand  of  war. 

All  who  were  concerned  in  the  rebellion  were 
seized,  so  far  as  Charles  could  lay  hands  on  them. 
When  questioned,  they  lay  all  the  blame  on  Witte- 
kind.  He  was  the  culprit,  they  but  his  instruments. 
But  Wittekind  had  vanished,  the  protesting  chiefs 
and  people  were  in  the  conqueror's  hands,  and,  bent 
on  making  an  awful  example,  he  had  no  less  than 
four  thousand  five  hundred  of  them  beheaded  in  one 
day.  It  was  a  frightful  act  of  vengeance,  which  has 
ever  since  remained  an  ineradicable  blot  on  the 
memory  of  the  great  king. 

Its  effect  was  what  might  have  been  anticipated. 
Instead  of  filling  the  Saxons  with  terror,  it  inspired 
4* 


42  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

them  with  revengeful  fury.  They  rose  as  one  man, 
Wittekind  and  Alboin  at  their  head,  and  attacked 
the  French  with  a  fury  such  as  they  had  never  before 
displayed.  The  remorseless  cruelty  with  which  they 
had  been  treated  was  repaid  in  the  blood  of  the  in- 
vaders, and  in  the  many  petty  combats  that  took  place 
the  hardy  and  infuriated  barbarians  proved  invincible 
against  their  opponents.  Even  in  a  pitched  battle, 
fought  at  Detmold,  in  which  Wittekind  led  the 
Saxons  against  the  superior  forces  of  Charlemagne, 
they  held  their  own  against  all  his  strength  and 
generalship,  and  the  victory  remained  undecided. 
But  they  were  again  brought  to  battle  upon  the 
Hase,  and  now  the  superior  skill  and  more  numerous 
iirmy  of  the  great  conqueror  prevailed.  The  Saxons 
were  defeated  with  great  slaughter,  and  the  French 
advanced  as  far  as  the  Elbe.  The  war  continued 
during  the  succeeding  year,  by  the  end  of  which  the 
Saxons  had  become  so  reduced  in  strength  that 
further  efforts  at  resistance  would  have  been  mad- 
ness. 

The  cruelty  which  Charlemagne  had  displayed, 
and  which  had  proved  so  signally  useless,  was  now 
replaced  by  a  mildness  much  more  in  conformity 
with  his  general  character;  and  the  Saxons,  ex- 
hausted with  their  struggles,  and  attracted  by  the 
gentleness  with  which  he  treated  them,  showed  a 
general  disposition  to  submit.  But  Wittekind  and 
his  fellow-chieftain  Alboin  were  still  at  large,  and 
the  astute  conqueror  well  knew  that  there  was  no 
security  in  his  new  conquest  unless  they  could  be 
brought  over.     He  accordingly  opened  negotiation* 


WITTEKIND,    THE   SAXON   PATRIOT.  43 

with  them,  requesting  a  personal  conference,  and 
pledging  his  royal  word  that  they  should  be  dealt 
with  in  all  faith  and  honesty.  The  Saxon  chiefs, 
however,  were  not  inclined  to  put  themselves  in  the 
power  of  a  king  against  whom  they  had  so  long  and 
desperately  fought  without  stronger  pledge  than  his 
bare  word.  They  demanded  hostages.  Charlemagne, 
who  fully  appreciated  the  value  of  their  friendship 
and  submission,  freely  acceded  to  their  terms,  sent 
hostages,  and  was  gratified  by  having  the  indomitable 
chiefs  enter  his  palace  at  PaderbOvTi. 

Wittekind  was  well  aware  that  his  mission  as  a 
Saxon  leader  was  at  an  end.  The  country  was  sub- 
dued, its  warriors  slain,  terrorized,  or  won  over,  and 
his  single  hand  could  not  keep  up  the  war  with 
France.  He,  therefore,  swore  fealty  to  Charlemagne, 
freely  consented  to  become  a  Christian,  and  was. 
with  his  companion,  baptized  at  Attigny  in  France. 
The  emperor  stood  his  sponsor  in  baptism,  received 
him  out  of  the  font,  loaded  him  with  royal  gifts,  and 
sent  him  back  with  the  title  of  Duke  of  Saxony, 
which  he  held  as  a  vassal  of  France.  Henceforward 
he  seems  to  have  observed  good  faith  to  Charle- 
magne, for  his  name  now  vanishes  from  history, 
silence  in  this  case  being  a  pledge  of  honor  and 
peacefulness. 

But  if  history  here  lays  him  down,  legend  takes 
him  up,  and  yields  us  a  number  of  stories  concerning 
him  not  one  of  which  has  any  evidence  to  sustain  it, 
but  which  are  curious  enough  to  be  worth  repeating. 
It  gives  us,  for  instance,  a  far  more  romantic  account 
of  his  conversion  than  that  above  told.     This  relates 


44  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

that,  in  the  Easter  season  of  785,— the  year  of  his 
conversion, — Wittekind  stole  into  the  French  camp 
in  the  garb  of  a  minstrel  or  a  mendicant,  and,  while 
cautiously  traversing  it,  bent  on  spying  out  its  weak- 
nesses, was  attracted  to  a  large  tent  within  which 
Charlemagne  was  attending  the  service  of  the  mass. 
Led  by  an  irresistible  impulse,  the  pagan  entered  the 
tent,  and  stood  gazing  in  spellbound  wonder  at  the 
ceremony,  marvelling  what  the  strange  and  impres- 
sive performance  meant.  As  the  priest  elevated  the 
host,  the  chief,  with  astounded  eyes,  beheld  in  it  the 
image  of  a  child,  of  dazzling  and  unearthly  beauty. 
He  could  not  conceal  his  surprise  from  those  around 
him,  some  of  whom  recognized  in  the  seeming  beg- 
gar the  great  Saxon  leader,  and  took  him  to  the  em- 
peror. Wittekind  told  Charlemagne  of  his  vision, 
begged  to  be  made  a  Christian,  and  brought  over 
many  of  his  countrymen  to  the  fold  of  the  true 
church  by  the  shining  example  of  his  conversion. 

Legend  goes  on  to  tell  us  that  he  became  a  Chris- 
tian of  such  hot  zeal  as  to  exact  a  bloody  atone- 
ment from  the  Frisians  for  their  murder  of  Boniface 
and  his  fellow-priests  a  generation  before.  It  further 
tells  us  that  he  founded  a  church  at  Enger,  in  West- 
phalia, was  murdered  by  Gerold,  Duke  of  Swabia, 
and  was  buried  in  the  church  he  had  founded,  and 
in  which  his  tomb  was  long  shown.  In  truth,  the 
people  came  to  honor  him  as  a  saint,  and  though 
there  is  no  record  of  his  canonization,  a  saint's  day, 
January  7,  is  given  him,  and  we  are  told  of  miracles 
performed  at  his  tomb. 

So  much  for  the  dealings  of  Christian  legend  with 


WITTEKIND,   THE   SAXON   PATRIOT.  45 

this  somewhat  unsaintly  personage.  Secular  legend, 
for  it  is  probably  little  more,  has  contented  itself  with 
tracing  his  posterity,  several  families  of  Germany 
deriving  their  descent  from  him,  while  he  is  held  to 
have  been  the  ancestor  of  the  imperial  house  of  the 
Othos.  Some  French  genealogists  go  so  far  as  to 
trace  the  descent  of  Hugh  Capet  to  this  hero  of  the 
Saxon  woods.  In  truth,  he  has  been  made  to  some 
extent  the  Eoland  or  the  Arthur  of  Saxony,  though 
fancy  has  not  gone  so  far  in  his  case  as  in  that  of 
the  French  paladin  and  the  Welsh  hero  of  knight- 
errantry,  for,  though  he  and  his  predecessor  Her- 
mann became  favorite  characters  in  German  ballad 
and  legend,  the  romance  heroes  of  that  land  con- 
tinued to  be  the  mythical  Siegfried  and  his  partly 
fabulous,  partly  historical  companions  of  the  epical 
sonar  of  the  Nibelung. 


THE  RAIDS   OF  THE  SEA- 
ROVERS. 

While  Central  and  Southern  Europe  was  actively 
engaged  in  wars  by  land,  Scandinavia,  that  nest  of 
pirates,  was  as  actively  engaged  in  wars  by  sea, 
sending  its  armed  galleys  far  to  the  south,  to  plunder 
and  burn  wherever  they  could  find  footing  on  shore. 
Not  content  with  plundering  the  coasts,  they  made 
their  way  up  the  streams,  and  often  suddenly  ap- 
peared far  inland  before  an  alarm  could  be  given. 
Wherever  they  went,  heaps  of  the  dead  and  the 
smoking  ruins  of  habitations  marked  their  ruthless 
course.  They  did  not  hesitate  to  attack  fortified 
cities,  several  of  which  fell  into  their  hands  and 
were  destroyed.  They  always  fought  on  foot,  but 
such  was  their  strength,  boldness,  and  activity  that 
the  heavy-armed  cavalry  of  France  and  Germany 
seemed  unable  to  endure  their  assault,  and  was  fre- 
quently put  to  flight.  If  defeated,  or  in  danger  of 
defeat,  they  hastened  back  to  their  ships,  from  which 
they  rarely  ventured  far,  and  rowed  away  with  such 
speed  that  pursuit  was  in  vain.  For  a  long  period 
they  kept  the  Atlantic  and  Mediterranean  coasts  of 
Europe  in  such  terror  that  prayers  were  publicly 
read  in  the  churches  for  deliverance  from  them,  and 
46 


THE   RAIDS   OF   THE   SEA-ROVERS.  47 

the  sight  of  their  dragon-beaked  ships  filled  the  land 
with  terror. 

In  845  a  party  of  them  assailed  and  took  Paris, 
from  which  they  were  bought  off  by  the  cowardly  and 
ineffective  method  of  ransom,  seven  thousand  pounds 
of  silver  being  paid  them.  In  853  another  expedi- 
tion, led  by  a  leader  named  Hasting,  one  of  the  most 
dreaded  of  the  Norsemen,  again  took  Paris,  marched 
into  Burgundy,  laying  waste  the  country  as  he  ad- 
vanced, and  finally  took  Tours,  to  which  city  much 
treasure  had  been  carried  for  safe-keeping.  Charles 
the  Bald,  who  had  bought  off  the  former  expedition 
with  silver,  bought  off  this  one  with  gold,  offering 
the  bold  adventurer  a  bribe  of  six  hundred  and 
eighty-five  pounds  of  the,  precious  metal,  to  which 
he  added  a  ton  and  a  half  of  silver,  to  leave  the 
country. 

From  France,  Hasting  set  sail  for  Italy,  where  his 
ferocity  was  aided  by  a  cunning  which  gives  us  a 
deeper  insight  into  his  character.  Eome,  a  famous 
but  mystical  city  to  the  northern  pagans,  whose 
imaginations  invested  it  with  untold  wealth  and 
splendor,  was  the  proposed  goal  of  the  enterprising 
Norseman,  who  hoped  to  make  himself  fabulously 
wealthy  from  its  plunder.  With  a  hundred  ships, 
filled  with  hardy  Norse  pirates,  he  swept  through 
the  Strait  of  Gibraltar  and  along  the  coasts  of 
Spain  and  France,  plundering  as  he  went  till  he 
reached  the  harbor  of  Lucca,  Italy. 

As  to  where  and  what  Eome  was,  the  unlettered 
heathen  had  but  the  dimmest  conception,  Here 
before  him  lay  what  seemed  a  great  and  rich  city, 


48  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

strongly  fortified  and  thickly  peopled.  This  must  be 
Rome,  he  told  himself;  behind  those  lofty  walls  lay 
the  wealth  which  he  so  earnestly  craved ;  but  how 
could  it  be  obtained  ?  Assault  on  those  strong  forti- 
fications would  waste  time,  and  perhaps  end  in  de- 
feat. If  the  city  could  be  won  by  stratagem,  so 
much  the  better  for  himself  and  his  men. 

The  shrewd  Norseman  quickly  devised  a  prom 
ising  plan  within  the  depths  of  his  astute  brain.  It 
was  the  Christmas  season,  and  the  inhabitants  were 
engaged  in  the  celebration  of  the  Christmas  festival, 
though,  doubtless,  sorely  troubled  in  mind  by  that 
swarm  of  strange- shaped  vessels  in  their  harbor, 
with  their  stalwart  crews  of  blue-eyed  plunderers. 

"Word  was  sent  to  the  authorities  of  the  city  that 
the  fleet  had  come  thither  from  no  hostile  intent,  and 
that  all  the  mariners  wished  was  to  obtain  the  favor 
of  an  honorable  burial-place  for  their  chieftain,  who 
had  just  died.  If  the  citizens  would  grant  them 
this,  they  would  engage  to  depart  after  the  funeral 
without  injury  to  their  courteous  and  benevolent 
friends.  The  message — probably  not  expressed  in 
quite  the  above  phrase — was  received  in  good  faith 
by  the  unsuspecting  Lombards,  who  were  glad 
enough  to  get  rid  of  their  dangerous  visitors  on 
such  cheap  terms,  and  gratified  to  learn  that  these 
fierce  pagans  wished  Christian  burial  for  their  chief. 
Word  was  accordingly  sent  to  the  ships  that  the 
authorities  granted  their  request,  and  were  pleased 
with  the  opportunity  to  oblige  the  mourning  crews. 

Not  long  afterwards  a  solemn  procession  left  the 
fleet,  a  coffin,  draped  in  solemn  black,  at  its  head 


THE   RAIDS   OP   THE   SEA-ROVERS.  49 

borne  by  strong  carriers.  As  mourners  there  fol- 
lowed a  large  deputation  of  stalwart  Norsemen, 
seemingly  unarmed,  and  to  all  appearance  lost  in 
grief.  With  slow  steps  they  entered  the  gates  and 
moved  through  the  streets  of  the  city,  chanting  the 
death-song  of  the  great  Hasting,  until  the  church  was 
reached,  and  they  had  advanced  along  its  crowded 
aisle  to  the  altar,  where  stood  the  priests  ready  to 
officiate  at  the  obsequies  of  the  expired  freebooter. 

The  coffin  was  set  upon  the  floor,  and  the  priests 
were  about  to  break  into  the  solemn  chant  for  the 
dead,  when  suddenly,  to  the  surprise  and  horror  of 
the  worshippers,  the  supposed  corpse  sprang  to  life, 
leaped  up  sword  in  hand,  and  with  a  fierce  and 
deadly  blow  struck  the  officiating  bishop  to  the  heart. 
Instantly  the  seeming  mourners,  who  had  been 
chosen  from  the  best  warriors  of  the  fleet,  flung 
aside  their  cloaks  and  grasped  their  arms,  and  a  car- 
nival of  death  began  in  that  crowded  church. 

It  was  not  slaughter,  however,  that  Hasting 
wanted,  but  plunder.  Rushing  from  the  church,  the 
Norsemen  assailed  the  city,  looting  with  free  hand, 
and  cutting  down  all  who  came  in  their  way.  No 
long  time  was  needed  by  the  skilful  freebooters  for 
this  task,  and  before  the  citizens  could  recover  from 
the  mortal  terror  into  which  they  had  been  thrown, 
the  pagan  plunderers  were  off  again  for  their  ships, 
laden  with  spoil,  and  taking  with  them  as  captives 
a  throng  of  women  and  maidens,  the  most  beautiful 
they  could  find. 

This  daring  affair  had  a  barbarous  sequel.  A 
storm  arising  which  threatened  the  loss  of  his  ships, 
iv. — c        d  5 


60  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

the  brutal  Hasting  gave  orders  that  the  vessels 
should  be  lightened  by  throwing  overboard  plunder 
and  captives  alike.  Saved  by  this  radical  method, 
the  sea-rovers  quickly  repaid  themselves  for  their 
losses  by  sailing  up  the  Ehone,  and  laying  the 
country  waste  through  many  miles  of  Southern 
France. 

The  end  of  this  phase  of  Hasting's  career  was  a 
singular  one.  In  the  year  860  he  consented  to  be 
baptized  as  a  Christian,  and  to  swear  allegiance  to 
Charles  the  Bald  of  France,  on  condition  of  receiving 
the  title  of  Count  of  Chartres,  with  a  suitable  do- 
main. It  was  a  wiser  method  of  disarming  a  re- 
doubtable enemy  than  that  of  ransoming  the  land, 
which  Charles  had  practised  with  Hasting  on  a 
previous  occasion.  He  had  converted  a  foe  into  a 
subject,  upon  whom  he  might  count  for  defence 
against  those  fierce  heathen  whom  he  had  so  often 
led  to  battle. 

While  France,  England,  and  the  Mediterranean 
regions  formed  the  favorite  visiting  ground  of  the 
Norsemen,  they  did  not  fail  to  pay  their  respects  in 
some  measure  to  Germany,  and  during  the  ninth 
century,  their  period  of  most  destructive  activity, 
the  latter  country  suffered  considerably  from  their 
piratical  ravages.  Two  German  warriors  who  under- 
took to  guard  the  coasts  against  their  incursions  are 
worthy  of  mention.  One  of  these,  Baldwin  of  the 
Iron  Arm,  Count  of  Flanders,  distinguished  himself 
by  seducing  Judith,  daughter  of  Charles  the  Bald 
of  France,  who,  young  as  she  was,  was  already  the 
widow  of  two  English  kings,  Ethelwolf  and  his  son 


THE   RAIDS   OF   THE   SEA-ROVERS.  51 

Ethelbold.  Charles  was  at  first  greatly  enraged,  but 
afterwards  accepted  Baldwin  as  his  son-in-law,  and 
made  him  lord  of  the  district.  The  second  was 
Robert  the  Strong,  Count  of  Maine,  a  valiant  de- 
fender of  the  country  against  the  sea-kings.  He 
was  slain  in  a  bloody  battle  with  them,  near  An  vers, 
in  866.  This  distinguished  warrior  was  the  ancestor 
of  Hugh  Capet,  afterwards  king  of  France. 

For  some  time  after  his  death  the  Norsemen 
avoided  Germany,  paying  their  attentions  to  Eng- 
land, where  Alfred  the  Great  was  on  the  throne. 
About  880  their  incursions  began  again,  and  though 
they  were  several  times  defeated  with  severe  slaugh- 
ter, new  swarms  followed  the  old  ones,  and  year  by 
year  fresh  fleets  invaded  the  land,  leaving  ruin  ic 
their  paths. 

Up  the  rivers  they  sailed,  as  in  France,  taking 
cities,  devastating  the  country,  doing  more  damage 
each  year  than  could  be  repaired  in  a  decade.  Aix- 
la-Chapelle,  the  imperial  city  of  the  mighty  Charle- 
magne, fell  into  their  hands,  and  the  palace  of  the 
great  Charles,  in  little  more  than  half  a  century 
after  his  death,  was  converted  by  these  marauders 
into  a  stable.  Well  might  the  far-seeing  emperor 
have  predicted  sorrow  and  trouble  for  the  land  from 
these  sea-rovers,  as  he  is  said  to  have  done,  on  seeing 
their  many-oared  ships  from  a  distance.  Yet  even 
his  foresight  could  scarcely  have  imagined  that, 
before  he  was  seventy  years  in  the  grave,  the  vikinge 
of  the  north  would  be  stabling  their  horses  in  the 
most  splendid  of  his  palaces. 

The  rovers  attacked  Metz,  and  Bishop  Wala  fell 


62  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

while  bravely  fighting  them  before  its  gates.  City 
after  city  on  the  Ehine  was  taken  and  bnrned  to  the 
ground.  The  whole  country  between  Liege,  Cologne, 
and  Mayence  was  so  ravaged  as  to  be  almost  con- 
verted into  a  desert.  The  besom  of  destruction,  in 
the  hands  of  the  sea-kings,  threatened  to  sweep 
Germany  from  end  to  end,  as  it  had  swept  the 
greater  part  of  France. 

The  impunity  with  which  they  raided  the  country 
was  due  in  great  part  to  the  indolent  character  of 
the  monarch.  Charles  the  Fat,  as  he  was  entitled, 
who  had  the  ambitious  project  of  restoring  the  em- 
pire of  Charlemagne,  and  succeeded  in  'combining 
France  and  Germany  under  his  sceptre,  proved  un- 
able to  protect  his  realm  from  the  pirate  rovers. 
Like  his  predecessor,  Charles  the  Bald  of  France,  he 
tried  the  magic  power  of  gold  and  silver,  as  a  more 
effective  argument  than  sharpened  steel,  to  rid  him 
of  these  marauders.  Siegfried,  their  principal  leader, 
was  bought  off  with  two  thousand  pounds  of  gold 
and  twelve  thousand  pounds  of  silver,  to  raise  which 
sum  Charles  seized  all  the  treasures  of  the  churches. 
In  consideration  of  this  great  bribe  the  sea-rover 
consented  to  a  truce  for  twelve  years.  His  brother 
Gottfried  was  bought  off  in  a  different  method,  being 
made  Duke  of  Friesland  and  vassal  of  the  emperor. 

These  concessions,  however,  did  not  put  an  end 
to  the  depredations  of  the  Norsemen.  There  were 
other  leaders  than  the  two  formidable  brothers,  and 
other  pirates  than  those  under  their  control,  and  the 
country  was  soon  again  invaded,  a  strong  party  ad- 
vancing as  far  as  the  Moselle,  where  they  took  and 


THE  RAIDS   OP   THE   SEA-ROVERS.  53 

destroyed  the  city  of  Treves.  This  marauding  band, 
however,  dearly  paid  for  its  depredations.  While 
advancing  through  the  forest  of  Ardennes,  it  was 
ambushed  and  assailed  by  a  furious  multitude  of 
peasants  and  charcoal-burners,  before  whose  weapons 
ten  thousand  of  the  Norsemen  fell  in  death. 

This  revengeful  act  of  the  peasantry  was  followed 
by  a  treacherous  deed  of  the  emperor,  which  brought 
renewed  trouble  upon  the  land.  Eager  to  rid  him- 
self of  his  powerful  and  troublesome  vassal  in  Fries- 
land,  Charles  invited  Gottfried  to  a  meeting,  at  which 
he  had  the  Norsemen  treacherously  murdered,  while 
his  brother-in-law  Hugo  was  deprived  of  his  sight. 
It  was  an  act  sure  to  bring  a  bloody  reprisal.  No 
sooner  had  news  of  it  reached  the  Scandinavian  north 
than  a  fire  of  revengeful  rage  swept  through  the  land, 
and  from  every  port  a  throng  of  oared  galleys  put  to 
sea,  bent  upon  bloody  retribution.  Soon  in  immense 
hordes  they  fell  upon  the  imperial  realm,  forcing 
their  way  in  mighty  hosts  up  the  Ehine,  the  Maese, 
and  the  Seine,  and  washing  out  the  memory  of  Gott- 
fried's murder  in  torrents  of  blood,  while  the  brand 
spread  ruin  far  and  wide. 

The  chief  attack  was  made  on  Paris,  which  the 
Norsemen  invested  and  besieged  for  a  year  and  a 
half.  The  march  upon  Paris  was  made  by  sea  and 
land,  the  marauders  making  Rouen  their  place  of 
rendezvous.  From  this  centre  of  operations  Eollo— 
the  future  conqueror  and  Duke  of  Normandy,  now 
a  formidable  sea-king — led  an  overland  force  towards 
the  French  capital,  and  on  his  way  was  met  by  an 
envoy  from  the  emperor,  no  less  a  personage  than 
5* 


54  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

the  Count  of  Chartres,  the  once  redoubtable  Hasting, 
now  a  noble  of  the  empire. 

"  "Valiant  sirs,"  he  said  to  Eollo  and  his  chiefs, 
"who  are  you  that  come  hither,  and  why  have  you 
come  ?" 

"  We  are  Danes,"  answered  Eollo,  proudly ;  "  all  of 
us  equals,  no  man  the  lord  of  any  other,  but  lords 
of  all  besides.  We  are  come  to  punish  these  people 
and  take  their  lands.  And  you,  by  what  name  are 
you  called  ?" 

"  Have  you  not  heard  of  a  certain  Hasting,"  was 
the  reply,  "  a  sea-king  who  left  your  land  with  a 
multitude  of  ships,  and  turned  into  a  desert  a  great 
part  of  this  fair  land  of  France  ?" 

"We  have  heard  of  him,"  said  Eollo,  curtly.  "He 
began  well  and  ended  badly." 

"  Will  you  submit  to  King  Charles  ?"  asked  the  en- 
voy, deeming  it  wise,  perhaps,  to  change  the  subject. 

"  We  will  submit  to  no  one,  king  or  chieftain.  All 
that  we  gain  by  the  sword  we  are  masters  and  lords 
of.  This  you  may  tell  to  the  king  who  has  sent  you. 
The  lords  of  the  sea  know  no  masters  on  land." 

Hasting  left  with  his  message,  and  Eollo  continued 
his  advance  to  the  Seine.  Not  finding  here  the  ships 
of  the  maritime  division  of  the  expedition,  which 
he  had  expected  to  meet,  he  seized  on  the  boats  of 
the  French  fishermen  and  pursued  his  course.  Soon 
afterwards  a  French  force  was  met  and  put  to  flight, 
its  leader,  Duke  Eagnold,  being  killed.  This  event, 
as  we  are  told,  gave  rise  to  a  new  change  in  the 
career  of  the  famous  Hasting.  A  certain  Tetbold  or 
Thibaud,  of  Northman  birth,  came  to  him  and  told 


THE   RAIDS   OF   THE   SEA-ROVERS.  55 

him  that  he  was  suspected  of  treason,  the  defeat  of 
the  French  having  been  ascribed  to  secret  informa- 
tion furnished  by  him.  Whether  this  were  true,  or 
a  mere  stratagem  on  the  part  of  his  informant,  it 
had  the  desired  effect  of  alarming  Hasting,  who 
quickly  determined  to  save  himself  from  peril  by 
joining  his  old  countrymen  and  becoming  again  a 
viking  chief.  He  thereupon  sold  his  countship  to 
Tetbold,  and  hastened  to  join  the  army  of  Norsemen 
then  besieging  Paris.  As  for  the  cunning  trickster, 
he  settled  down  into  his  cheaply  bought  countship, 
and  became  the  founder  of  the  subsequent  house  of 
the  Counts  of  Chartres. 

The  siege  of  Paris  ended  in  the  usual  manner  of 
the  Norseman  invasions  of  France, — that  of  ransom. 
Charles  marched  to  its  relief  with  a  strong  army, 
but,  instead  of  venturing  to  meet  his  foes  in  battle, 
he  bought  them  off  as  so  often  before,  paying  them  a 
large  sum  of  money,  granting  them  free  navigation 
of  the  Seine  and  entrance  to  Paris,  and  confirming 
them  in  the  possession  of  Friesland.  This  occurred 
in  887.  A  year  afterwards  he  lost  his  crown,  through 
the  indignation  of  the  nobles  at  his  cowardice,  and 
France  and  Germany  again  fell  asunder. 

The  plundering  incursions  continued,  and  soon 
afterwards  the  new  emperor,  Arnulf,  nephew  of 
Charles  the  Fat,  a  man  of  far  superior  energy  to  his 
deposed  uncle,  attacked  a  powerful  force  of  the  pi- 
ratical invaders  near  Louvain,  where  they  had  en- 
camped after  a  victory  over  the  Archbishop  of  May- 
ence.  In  the  heat  of  the  battle  that  followed,  the 
vigilant  Arnulf  perceived  that  the  German  cavalry 


56  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

fought  at  a  disadvantage  with  their  stalwart  foes, 
whose  dexterity  as  foot-soldiers  was  remarkable. 
Springing  from  his  horse,  he  called  upon  his  followers 
to  do  the  same.  They  obeyed,  the  nobles  and  their 
men-at-arms  leaping  to  the  ground  and  rushing  furi- 
ously on  foot  upon  their  opponents.  The  assault  was 
so  fierce  and  sudden  that  the  Norsemen  gave  way, 
and  were  cut  down  in  thousands,  Siegfried  and  Gott- 
fried— a  new  Gottfried  apparently — falling  on  the 
field,  while  the  channel  of  the  Dyle,  across  which 
the  defeated  invaders  sought  to  fly,  was  choked  with 
their  corpses. 

This  bloody  defeat  put  an  end  to  the  incursions  of 
the  Norsemen  by  way  of  the  Ehine.  Thenceforward 
they  paid  their  attention  to  the  coast  of  France, 
which  they  continued  to  invade  until  one  of  their 
great  leaders,  Eollo,  settled  in  Normandy  as  a  vassal 
of  the  French  monarch,  and  served  as  an  efficient 
barrier  against  the  inroads  of  his  countrymen. 

As  to  Hasting,  he  appears  to  have  returned  to  his 
old  trade  of  sea-rover,  and  we  hear  of  him  again  as 
one  of  the  Norse  invaders  of  England,  during  the 
latter  part  of  the  reign  of  Alfred  the  Great. 


THE  FATE  OF  BISHOP  HATTO. 

We  have  now  to  deal  with  a  personage  whose 
story  is  largely  legendary,  particularly  that  of  his 
death,  popular  execration  for  his  crimes  having  in- 
vented a  highly  original  termination  to  his  career  of 
infamy.  But  Bishop  Hatto  played  his  part  in  the 
history  as  well  as  in  the  legend  of  Germany,  and  the 
curious  stories  concerning  him  were  based  on  the 
deeds  of  his  actual  life.  It  was  in  the  beginning  of 
the  tenth  century  that  this  notable  churchman  flour- 
ished  as  Archbishop  of  Mayence,  and  the  emperor- 
maker  of  his  times.  In  connection  with  Otho,  Duke 
of  Saxony,  he  placed  Louis,  surnamed  the  Child, — 
for  he  was  but  seven  years  of  age, — on  the  imperial 
throne,  and  governed  Germany  in  his  name.  Louis 
died  in  911,  while  still  a  boy,  and  with  him  ended 
the  race  of  Charlemagne  in  Germany.  Conrad,  Duke 
of  Franconia,  a  mere  creature  of  Bishop  Hatto,  was 
now  made  emperor,  and  the  astute  churchman  still 
remained  the  power  behind  the  throne. 

In  truth,  the  influence  and  authority  of  the  church 
at  that  time  was  enormous,  and  its  potentates 
troubled  themselves  far  more  about  the  affairs  of 
the  earth  than  those  of  heaven.  Hatto  was  at 
once  cunning  and  cruel,  daring  and  unscrupulous, 

67 


58  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

and  raised  himself  to  an  almost  unlimited  power  in 
France  and  Southern  Germany  by  his  arts  and  influ- 
ence, Otho  of  Saxony  aiding  him  in  his  progress  to 
power.  Two  of  his  opponents,  Henry  and  Adelhart, 
of  Babenberg,  took  up  arms  against  him,  and  came  to 
their  deaths  in  consequence.  Adalbert,  the  opponent 
of  the  Norsemen,  was  his  next  antagonist,  and  Hatto, 
through  his  influence  in  the  diet,  had  him  put  under 
the  ban  of  the  empire. 

Adalbert,  however,  vigorously  resisted  this  decree, 
taking  up  arms  in  his  own  defence,  and  defeating 
his  opponent  in  the  field.  But  soon,  being  closely 
pressed,  he  retired  to  his  fortress  of  Bamberg,  which 
was  quickly  invested  and  besieged.  Here  he  de- 
fended himself  with  such  energy  that  Hatto,  finding 
that  the  outlawed  noble  was  not  to  be  easily  sub- 
dued by  force,  adopted  against  him  those  spiritual 
weapons,  as  he  probably  considered  them,  in  which 
he  was  so  trained  an  adept. 

The  cunning  priest,  with  a  pretence  of  friendly 
purpose,  offered  to  mediate  between  Adalbert  and  his 
enemies,  promising  him,  if  he  would  leave  his  strong- 
hold to  appear  before  the  assembled  nobles  of  the 
diet,  that  he  should  have  a  free  and  safe  return. 
Adalbert  accepted  the  terms,  deeming  that  he  could 
safely  trust  the  pledged  word  of  a  high  dignitary 
of  the  church.  He  did  not  know  Hatto.  Leaving 
the  gates  of  his  castle,  he  was  met  at  a  short  dis- 
tance beyond  by  the  bishop,  who  accosted  him  in 
his  friendliest  tone,  and  proposed  that,  as  their  jour- 
ney would  be  somewhat  long,  they  should  breakfast 
together  within  the  castle  before  starting. 


THE   FATE   OF   BISHOP   HATTO.  59 

The  unsuspicious  dupe  assented  and  returned  to 
the  fortress  with  his  smooth-tongued  companion, 
took  breakfast  with  him,  and  then  set  out  with  him 
for  the  diet.  Here  he  was  sternly  called  to  answer 
for  his  acts  of  opposition  to  the  decree  of  the  ruling 
body  of  Germany,  and  finding  that  the  tide  of  feeling 
was  running  strongly  against  him,  proposed  to  return 
to  his  fortress  in  conformity  with  the  plighted  faith 
of  Bishop  Hatto.  The  unfortunate  man  was  now  to 
learn  the  character  of  the  ecclesiastic  with  whom  he 
had  to  deal.  Hatto,  with  an  aspect  of  supreme 
honesty,  declared  that  he  had  already  fulfilled  his 
promise.  He  had  agreed  that  Adalbert  should  have 
a  free  and  safe  return  to  his  castle.  This  had  been 
granted  him.  He  had  returned  there  to  breakfast 
without  opposition  of  any  sort.  The  word  of  the 
bishop  had  been  fully  kept,  and  now,  as  a  member 
of  the  diet,  he  felt  free  to  act  as  he  deemed  proper, 
all  his  obligations  to  the  accused  having  been  ful- 
filled. 

Just  how  the  other  members  of  the  diet  viewed 
this  curious  conception  of  churchly  honor  history 
does  not  relate.  But  the  influence  of  the  faithless 
bishop  was  paramount  in  their  body,  and  Adalbert, 
despite  his  indignant  protest,  was  sentenced  to  death 
and  beheaded. 

But  if  the  lords  could  so  easily  condone  treachery 
that  agreed  with  their  views,  the  people  were  not  so 
subservient,  and  this  and  other  acts  of  infamy  made 
Bishop  Hatto  an  object  of  the  deepest  popular  con- 
tempt and  execration.  His  name  was  derided  in  the 
popular  ballads,  and  he  came  to  be  looked  upon  as 


60  HISTORICAL   TALE8. 

the  scapegoat  of  the  avarice  and  licentiousness  of 
the  church  in  that  irreligious  mediaeval  age.  Among 
the  legends  concerning  him  is  one  relating  to  Henry, 
the  son  of  his  ally,  Otho  of  Saxony,  who  died  in  912. 
Henry  had  long  quarrelled  with  the  bishop,  and  the 
story  goes  that,  to  get  rid  of  his  high-spirited  enemy, 
the  cunning  churchman  sent  him  a  gold  chain,  so 
skilfully  contrived  that  it  would  strangle  its  wearer. 

The  most  famous  legend  about  Hatto,  however,  is 
that  which  tells  the  manner  of  his  death.  The  story 
has  been  enshrined  in  poetry  by  Longfellow,  but  we 
must  be  content  to  give  it  in  plain  prose.  It  tells  us 
that  a  famine  occurred  in  the  land,  and  that  a  num- 
ber of  peasants  came  to  the  avaricious  bishop  to  beg 
for  bread.  By  his  order  they  were  shut  up  in  a  great 
barn,  which  then  was  set  on  fire,  and  its  miserable 
occupants  burned  to  death. 

And  now  the  cup  of  Hatto' s  infamy  was  filled,  and 
heaven  sent  him  retribution.  From  the  ruins  of  the 
barn  issued  a  myriad  of  mice,  which  pursued  the 
remorseless  bishop,  ceaselessly  following  him  in  his 
every  effort  to  escape  their  avenging  teeth.  At 
length  the  wretched  sinner,  driven  to  despair,  fled 
for  safety  to  a  strong  tower  standing  in  the  middle 
of  the  Rhine,  near  Bingen,  with  the  belief  that  the 
water  would  protect  him  from  his  swarming  foes. 
But  the  mice  swam  the  stream,  invaded  the  tower, 
and  devoured  the  miserable  fugitive.  As  a  proof  of 
the  truth  of  this  story  we  are  shown  the  tower,  still 
standing,  and  still  known  as  the  Mausethurm,  or 
Mouse  Tower. 

So  much  for  Bishop  Hatto  and  his  fate.     It  may 


THE   FATE   OF   BISHOP   HATTO.  61 

be  said,  in  conclusion,  that  his  period  was  one  of 
terror  and  excitement  in  Germany,  sufficient  perhaps 
to  excuMe  the  overturning  of  ideas,  and  the  replace- 
ment of  conceptions  of  truth  and  honor  by  their 
opposites.  The  wild  Magyars  had  invaded  and  taken 
Hungary,  and  were  making  savage  inroads  into 
Germany  from  every  quarter.  The  resistance  was 
obstinate,  the  Magyars  were  defeated  in  several 
severe  battles,  yet  still  their  multitudes  swarmed  over 
the  borders,  and  carried  terror  and  ruin  wherever 
they  came.  These  invaders  were  as  ferocious  in 
disposition,  as  fierce  in  their  onsets,  as  invincible 
through  contempt  of  death,  and  as  formidable  through 
their  skiful  horsemanship,  as  the  Huns  had  been 
before  them.  So  rapid  were  their  movements,  and 
so  startling  the  suddenness  with  which  they  would 
appear  in  and  vanish  from  the  heart  of  the  country, 
that  the  terrified  people  came  to  look  upon  them  as 
possessed  of  supernatural  powers.  Their  inhuman 
love  of  slaughter  and  their  destructive  habits  added 
to  the  terror  with  which  they  were  viewed.  They 
are  said  to  have  been  so  bloodthirsty,  that  in  their 
savage  feasts  after  victory  they  used  as  tables  the 
corpses  of  their  enemies  slain  in  battle.  It  is  further 
said  that  it  was  their  custom  to  bind  the  captured 
women  and  maidens  with  their  own  long  hair  as 
fetters,  and  drive  them,  thus  bound,  in  flocks  to 
Hungary. 

"We  may  conclude  with  a  touching  story  told  of 
these  unquiet  and  misery-haunted  times.  Ulrich, 
Count  of  Linzgau,  was,  so  the  story  goes,  taken 
prisoner  by  the   Magyars,   and   long  held  captive 

6 


62  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

in  their  hands.  Wendelgarde,  his  beautiful  wife, 
after  waiting  long  in  sorrow  for  his  return,  believed 
him  to  be  dead,  and  resolved  to  devote  the  remainder 
of  her  life  to  charity  and  devotion.  Crowds  of 
beggars  came  to  her  castle  gates,  to  whom  she  daily 
distributed  alms.  One  day,  while  she  was  thus  en- 
gaged, one  of  the  beggars  suddenly  threw  his  arms 
around  her  neck  and  kissed  her.  Her  attendants 
angrily  interposed,  but  the  stranger  waved  them 
aside  with  a  smile,  and  said, — 

"  Forbear,  I  have  endured  blows  and  misery  enough 
during  my  imprisonment  without  needing  more  from 
you ;  I  am  Ulrich,  your  lord." 

Truly,  in  this  instance,  charity  brought  its  reward. 


THE  MISFORTUNES   OF  DUKE 
ERNST 

In  the  reign  of  Conrad  II.,  Emperor  of  Germany, 
took  place  the  event  which  we  have  now  to  tell,  one 
of  those  interesting  examples  of  romance  which 
give  vitality  to  history.  On  the  death  of  Henry  II., 
the  last  of  the  great  house  of  the  Othos,  a  vast  as- 
sembly from  all  the  states  of  the  empire  was  called 
together  to  decide  who  their  next  emperor  should 
be.  From  every  side  they  came,  dukes,  margraves, 
counts,  and  barons,  attended  by  hosts  of  their  vas- 
sals; archbishops,  bishops,  abbots,  and  other  church- 
men, with  their  proud  retainers;  Saxons,  Swabians, 
Bavarians,  Bohemians,  and  numerous  other  national- 
ities, great  and  small ;  all  marching  towards  the  great 
plain  between  Worms  and  Mayence,  where  they 
gathered  on  both  sides  of  the  Ehine,  until  its  borders 
seemed  covered  by  a  countless  multitude  of  armed 
men.  The  scene  was  a  magnificent  one,  with  its 
far-spreading  display  of  rich  tents,  floating  banners, 
showy  armor,  and  everything  that  could  give  honor 
and  splendor  to  the  occasion. 

We  are  not  specially  concerned  with  what  took 
place.  There  were  two  competitors  for  the  throne, 
both  of  them  Conrad  by  name.     By  birth  they  were 

63 


64  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

cousins,  and  descendants  of  the  emperor  Conrad  I. 
The  younger  of  these,  but  the  son  of  the  elder 
brother,  and  the  most  distinguished  for  ability,  was 
elected,  and  took  the  throne  as  Conrad  II.  He  was 
to  prove  one  of  the  noblest  sovereigns  that  ever  held 
the  sceptre  of  the  German  empire.  The  election 
decided,  the  great  assembly  dispersed,  and  back  to 
their  homes  marched  the  host  of  warriors  who  had 
collected  for  once  with  peaceful  purpose. 

Two  years  afterwards,  in  1026,  Conrad  crossed  the 
Alps  with  an  army,  and  marched  through  Italy,  that 
land  which  had  so  perilous  an  attraction  for  German 
emperors,  and  so  sadly  disturbed  the  peace  and  prog- 
ress of  the  Teutonic  realm.  Conrad  was  not  per- 
mitted to  remain  there  long.  Troubles  in  Germany 
recalled  him  to  his  native  soil.  Swabia  had  broken 
out  in  hot  troubles.  Duke  Ernst,  step-son  of  Conrad, 
claimed  Burgundy  as  his  inheritance,  in  opposition 
to  the  emperor  himself,  who  had  the  better  claim. 
He  not  only  claimed  it,  but  attempted  to  seize  it. 
"With  him  were  united  two  Swabian  counts  of  ancient 
descent,  Eudolf  Welf,  or  Guelph,  and  Werner  of 
Kyburg. 

Swabia  was  in  a  blaze  when  Conrad  returned.  He 
convoked  a  great  diet  at  Ulm,  as  the  legal  means  of 
settling  the  dispute.  Thither  Ernst  came,  at  the 
head  of  his  Swabian  men-at-arms,  and  still  full  of 
rebellious  spirit,  although  his  mother,  Gisela,  the 
empress,  begged  him  to  submit  and  to  return  to  his 
allegiance. 

The  angry  rebel,  however,  soon  learned  that  his 
followers  were  not  willing  to  take  up  arms  against 


THE   MISFORTUNES   OP   DUKE   ERNST.  65 

the  emperor.  They  declared  that  their  oath  of  alle- 
giance to  their  duke  did  not  release  them  from  their 
higher  obligations  to  the  emperor  and  the  state,  that 
if  their  lord  was  at  feud  with  the  empire  it  was  their 
duty  to  aid  the  latter,  and  that  if  their  chiefs  wished 
to  quarrel  with  the  state,  they  must  fight  for  them- 
selves. 

This  defection  left  the  rebels  powerless.  Duke 
Ernst  was  arrested  and  imprisoned  on  a  charge  of 
high  treason.  Eudolf  was  exiled.  Werner,  who 
took  refuge  in  his  castle,  was  besieged  there  by  the 
imperial  troops,  against  whom  he  valiantly  defended 
himself  for  several  months.  At  length,  however, 
finding  that  his  stronghold  was  no  longer  tenable, 
he  contrived  to  make  his  escape,  leaving  the  nest  to 
the  imperialists  empty  of  its  bird. 

Three  years  Ernst  remained  in  prison.  Then  Con- 
rad restored  him  to  liberty,  perhaps  moved  by  the 
appeals  of  his  mother  Gisela,  and  promised  to  restore 
him  to  his  dukedom  of  Swabia  if  he  would  betray 
the  secret  of  the  retreat  of  "Werner,  who  was  still  at 
large  despite  all  efforts  to  take  him. 

This  request  touched  deeply  the  honor  of  the 
deposed  duke.  It  was  much  to  regain  his  ducal 
station ;  it  was  more  to  remain  true  to  the  fugitive 
who  had  trusted  and  aided  him  in  his  need. 

"  How  can  I  betray  my  only  true  friend  ?"  asked 
the  unfortunate  duke,  with  touching  pathos. 

His  faithfulness  was  not  appreciated  by  the  emperor 
and  his  nobles.  They  placed  Ernst  under  the  ban 
of  the  empire,  and  thus  deprived  him  of  rank,  wealth, 
and  property,  reducing  him  by  a  word  from  high 

IV.— €  6* 


66  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

estate  to  abject  beggary.  His  life  and  liberty  were 
left  him,  but  nothing  more,  and,  driven  by  despair,  ho 
sought  the  retreat  of  his  fugitive  friend  Werner,  who 
had  taken  refuge  in  the  depths  of  the  Black  Forest. 

Here  the  two  outlaws,  deprived  of  all  honest  means 
of  livelihood,  became  robbers,  and  entered  upon  a 
life  of  plunder,  exacting  contributions  from  all  sub- 
jects of  the  empire  who  fell  into  their  hands.  They 
soon  found  a  friend  in  Adalbert  of  Falkenstein,  who 
gave  them  the  use  of  his  castle  as  a  stronghold  and 
centre  of  operations,  and  joined  them  with  his  fol- 
lowers in  their  freebooting  raids. 

For  a  considerable  time  the  robber  chiefs  main- 
tained themselves  in  their  new  mode  of  life,  sallying 
from  the  castle,  laying  the  country  far  and  wide 
under  contribution,  and  returning  to  the  fortress  for 
safety  from  pursuit.  Their  exactions  became  in  time 
so  annoying,  that  the  castle  was  besieged  by  a  strong 
force  of  Swabians,  headed  by  Count  Mangold  of 
Yeringen,  and  the  freebooters  were  closely  confined 
within  their  walls.  Impatient  of  this,  a  sally  in  force 
was  made  by  the  garrison,  headed  by  the  two  robber 
chiefs,  and  an  obstinate  contest  ensued.  The  struggle 
ended  in  the  death  of  Mangold  on  the  one  side  and 
of  Ernst  and  Werner  on  the  other,  with  the  definite 
defeat  and  dispersal  of  the  robber  band. 

Thus  ended  an  interesting  episode  of  mediaeval 
German  history.  But  the  valor  and  misfortunes  of 
Duke  Ernst  did  not  die  unsung.  He  became  a  pop- 
ular hero,  and  the  subject  of  many  a  ballad,  in  which 
numerous  adventures  were  invented  for  him  during 
bis  career  as  an  opponent  of  the  emperor  and  an 


THE   MISFORTUNES  OF  DUKE   ERNST.  67 

outlaw  in  the  Black  Forest.  For  the  step-son  of  an 
emperor  to  be  reduced  to  such  a  strait  was  indeed  an 
event  likely  to  arouse  public  interest  and  sympathy, 
and  for  centuries  the  doings  of  the  robber  duke  were 
sung. 

In  the  century  after  his  death  the  imagination  of 
the  people  went  to  extremes  in  their  conception  of 
the  adventures  of  Duke  Ernst,  mixing  up  ideas  con- 
cerning him  with  fancies  derived  from  the  Crusades, 
the  whole  taking  form  in  a  legend  which  is  still  pre- 
served in  the  popular  ballad  literature  of  Germany. 
This  strange  conception  takes  Ernst  to  the  East, 
where  he  finds  himself  opposed  by  terrific  creatures 
in  human  and  brute  form,  they  being  allegorical  rep- 
resentations of  his  misfortunes.  Each  monster  sig- 
nifies an  enemy.  He  reaches  a  black  mountain, 
which  represents  his  prison.  He  is  borne  into  the 
clouds  by  an  old  man ;  this  is  typical  of  his  ambition. 
His  ship  is  wrecked  on  the  Magnet  mountain ;  a  per- 
sonification of  his  contest  with  the  emperor.  The 
nails  fly  out  of  the  ship  and  it  falls  to  pieces ;  an 
emblem  of  the  falling  off  of  his  vassals.  There  are 
other  adventures,  and  the  whole  circle  of  legends  is 
a  curious  one,  as  showing  the  vagaries  of  imagination, 
and  the  strong  interest  taken  by  the  people  in  the 
fortunes  and  misfortunes  of  their  chieftains 


THE  REIGN  OF  OTHO  II. 

Otho  II.,  Emperor  of  Germany, — Otho  the  Eed,  at* 
he  was  called,  from  his  florid  complexion, — succeeded 
to  the  Western  Empire  in  973,  when  in  his  eighteenth 
year  of  age.  His  reign  was  to  be  a  short  and  active 
one,  and  attended  by  adventures  and  fluctuations  of 
fortune  which  render  it  worthy  of  description.  Few 
monarchs  have  experienced  so  many  of  the  ups  and 
downs  of  life  within  the  brief  period  of  five  years, 
through  which  his  wars  extended. 

As  heir  to  the  imperial  title  of  Charlemagne,  he 
was  lord  of  the  ancient  palace  of  the  great  emperor, 
at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  and  here  held  court  at  the  feast 
of  St.  John  in  the  year  978.  All  was  peace  and 
festivity  within  the  old  imperial  city,  all  war  and 
threat  without  it.  While  Otho  and  his  courtiers, 
knights  and  ladies,  lords  and  minions,  were  enjoy 
ing  life  with  ball  and  banquet,  feast  and  frivolity,  in 
true  palatial  fashion,  an  army  was  marching  secretly 
upon  them,  with  treacherous  intent  to  seize  the 
emperor  and  his  city  at  one  full  swoop.  Lothaire, 
King  of  France,  had  in  haste  and  secrecy  collected 
an  army,  and,  without  a  declaration  of  hostilities, 
was  hastening,  by  forced  marches,  upon  Aix-la- 
Chapelle. 


THE   REIGN   OF   OTHO   II.  69 

It  was  an  act  of  treachery  utterly  undeserving  of 
success.  But  it  is  not  always  the  deserving  to  whom 
success  comes,  and  Otho  heard  of  the  rapid  approach 
of  this  army  barely  in  time  to  take  to  flight,  with 
his  fear -winged  flock  of  courtiers  at  his  heels,  leav- 
ing the  city  an  easy  prey  to  the  enemy.  Lothaire 
entered  the  city  without  a  blow,  plundered  it  as  if  he 
had  taken  it  by  storm,  and  ordered  that  the  imperial 
eagle,  which  was  erected  in  the  grand  square  of 
Charles  the  Great,  should  have  its  beak  turned 
westward,  in  token  that  Lorraine  now  belonged  to 
France. 

Doubtless  the  great  eagle  turned  creakingly  on  its 
support,  thus  moved  by  the  hand  of  unkingly  per 
fidy,  and  impatiently  awaited  for  time  and  the  tide 
of  affairs  to  turn  its  beak  again  to  the  east.  It  had 
not  long  to  wait.  The  fugitive  emperor  hastily 
called  a  diet  of  the  princes  and  nobles  at  Dortmund, 
told  them  in  impassioned  eloquence  of  the  faithless 
act  of  the  French  king,  and  called  upon  them  for 
aid  against  the  treacherous  Lothaire.  Little  appeal 
was  needed.  The  honor  of  Germany  was  concerned. 
Setting  aside  all  the  petty  squabbles  which  rent  the 
land,  the  indignant  princes  gathered  their  forces  and 
placed  them  under  Otho's  command.  By  the  1st  of 
October  the  late  fugitive  found  himself  at  the  head 
of  a  considerable  army,  and  prepared  to  take  revenge 
on  his  perfidious  enemy. 

Into  France  he  marched,  and  made  his  way  with 
little  opposition,  by  Eheims  and  Soissons,  until  the 
French  capital  lay  before  his  eyes.  Here  the  army 
encamped  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Seine,  around 


70  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Montmartre,  while  their  cavalry  avenged  the  plunder* 
ing  of  Aix-la-Chapelle  by  laying  waste  the  country 
for  many  miles  around.  The  French  were  evi- 
dently as  little  prepared  for  Otho's  activity  as  he 
had  been  for  Lothaire's  treachery,  and  did  not 
venture  beyond  the  walls  of  their  city,  leaving  the 
country  a  defenceless  prey  to  the  revengeful  angei 
of  the  emperor. 

The  Seine  lay  between  the  two  armies,  but  not  a 
Frenchman  ventured  to  cross  its  waters ;  the  garrison 
of  the  city,  under  Hugh  Capet, — Count  of  Paris, 
and  soon  to  become  the  founder  of  a  new  dynasty 
of  French  kings, — keeping  closely  within  its  walls. 
These  walls  proved  too  strong  for  the  Germans,  and 
as  winter  was  approaching,  and  there  was  much 
sickness  among  his  troops,  the  emperor  retreated, 
after  having  devastated  all  that  region  of  France. 
But  first  he  kept  a  vow  that  he  had  made,  that  he 
would  cause  the  Parisians  to  hear  a  Te  Deum  such 
as  they  had  never  heard  before.  In  pursuance  of 
this  vow,  he  gathered  upon  the  hill  of  Montmartre 
all  the  clergymen  whom  he  could  seize,  and  forced 
them  to  sing  his  anthem  of  victory  with  the  full 
power  of  their  lungs.  Then,  having  burned  the 
suburbs  of  Paris,  and  left  his  lance  quivering  in  the 
city  gate,  he  withdrew  in  triumph,  having  amply 
punished  the  treacherous  French  king.  Aix-la-Cha- 
pelle fell  again  into  his  hands ;  the  eyes  of  the  im- 
perial eagle  were  permitted  once  more  to  gaze  upon 
Germany,  and  in  the  treaty  of  peace  that  followed 
Lorraine  was  declared  to  be  forever  a  part  of  the 
German  realm. 


THE   REIGN   OP   OTHO   II.  71 

Two  years  afterwards  Otho,  infected  by  that 
desire  to  conquer  Italy  which  for  centuries  after- 
wards troubled  the  dreams  of  German  emperors, 
and  brought  them  no  end  of  trouble,  crossed  the 
Alps  and  descended  upon  the  Italian  plains,  from 
which  he  was  never  to  return.  Northern  Italy  was 
already  in  German  hands,  but  the  Greeks  held  pos- 
sessions in  the  south  which  Otho  claimed,  in  view  of 
the  fact  that  he  had  married  Theophania,  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  Greek  emperor  at  Constantinople.  To 
enforce  this  claim  he  marched  upon  the  Greek  cities, 
which  in  their  turn  made  peace  with  the  Arabs,  with 
whom  they  had  been  at  war,  and  gathered  garrisons 
of  these  bronzed  pagans  alike  from  Sicily  and  Africa. 

For  two  years  the  war  continued,  the  advantage 
resting  with  Otho.  In  980  he  reached  Eome,  and 
there  had  a  secret  interview  with  Hugh  Capet,  whom 
he  sustained  in  his  intention  to  seize  the  throne  of 
France,  still  held  by  his  old  enemy  Lothaire.  In 
981  he  captured  Naples,  Taranto,  and  other  cities, 
and  in  a  pitched  battle  near  Cotrona  defeated  the 
Greeks  and  their  Arab  allies.  Abn  al  Casern,  the 
terror  of  southern  Italy,  and  numbers  of  his  Arab 
followers,  were  left  dead  upon  the  field. 

On  the  13th  of  July,  982,  the  emperor  again  met 
the  Greeks  and  their  Arab  allies  in  battle,  and  now 
occurred  that  singular  adventure  and  reverse  of  for- 
tune which  has  made  this  engagement  memorable. 
The  battle  took  place  at  a  point  near  the  sea-shore, 
in  the  vicinity  of  Basantello,  not  far  from  Taranto, 
and  at  first  went  to  the  advantage  of  the  imperial 
forces.     They  attacked  the  Greeks  with  great  im- 


72  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

petuosity,  and,  after  a  stubborn  defence,  broke 
through  their  ranks,  and  forced  them  into  a  retreat, 
which  was  orderly  conducted. 

It  was  now  mid-day.  The  victors,  elated  with  their 
success  and  their  hopes  of  pillage,  followed  the  re- 
treating columns  aloog  the  banks  of  the  river  Corace, 
feeling  so  secure  that  they  laid  aside  their  arms  and 
marched  leisurely  and  confidently  forward.  It  was 
a  fatal  confidence.  At  one  point  in  their  march  the 
road  led  between  the  river  and  a  ridge  of  serried 
rocks,  which  lay  silent  beneath  the  mid-day  sun. 
But  silent  as  they  seemed,  they  were  instinct  with 
life.  An  ambuscade  of  Arabs  crouched  behind  them, 
impatiently  waiting  the  coming  of  the  unsuspecting 
Germans. 

Suddenly  the  air  pealed  with  sound,  the  "  Allah  il 
Allah !"  of  the  fanatical  Arabs ;  suddenly  the  startled 
eyes  of  the  imperialists  saw  the  rugged  rocks  burst- 
ing, as  it  seemed,  into  life  ;  suddenly  a  horde  of  dusky 
warriors  poured  down  upon  them  with  scimitar  and 
javelin,  surrounding  them  quickly  on  all  sides,  cut- 
ting and  slashing  their  way  deeply  into  the  disor- 
dered ranks.  The  scattered  troops,  stricken  with 
dismay,  fell  in  hundreds.  In  their  surprise  and  con- 
fusion they  became  easy  victims  to  their  agile  foes, 
and  in  a  short  time  nearly  the  whole  of  that  recently 
victorious  army  were  slain  or  taken  prisoners.  Of 
the  entire  force  only  a  small  number  broke  through 
the  lines  of  their  environing  foes. 

The  emperor  escaped  almost  by  miracle.  His 
trusty  steed  bore  him  unharmed  through  the  crowd- 
ing Arabs.     He  was  sharply  pursued,  but  the  swift 


THE   REIGN   OF   OTHO   II.  73 

animal  distanced  the  pursuers,  and  before  long  he 
reached  the  sea-shore,  over  whose  firm  sands  he 
guided  his  horse,  though  with  little  hope  of  escaping 
his  active  foes.  Fortunately,  he  soon  perceived  a 
Greek  vessel  at  no  great  distance  from  the  shore,  a 
vision  which  held  out  to  him  a  forlorn  hope  of  escape. 
The  land  was  perilous  ;  the  sea  might  be  more  pro- 
pitious ;  he  forced  his  faithful  animal  into  the  water, 
and  swam  towards  the  vessel,  in  the  double  hope  of 
being  rescued  and  remaining  unknown. 

He  was  successful  in  both  particulars.  The  crew 
willingly  took  him  on  board,  ignorant  of  his  high 
rank,  but  deeming  him  to  be  a  knight  of  distinction, 
from  whom  they  could  fairly  hope  for  a  handsome 
ransom.  His  situation  was  still  a  dangerous  one, 
should  he  become  known,  and  he  could  not  long  hope 
to  remain  incognito.  In  truth,  there  was  a  slave  on 
board  who  knew  him,  but  who,  for  purposes  of  his 
own,  kept  the  perilous  secret.  He  communicated  by 
stealth  with  the  emperor,  told  him  of  his  recognition, 
and  arranged  with  him  a  plan  of  escape.  In  pur- 
suance of  this  he  told  the  Greeks  that  their  captive 
was  a  chamberlain  of  the  emperor,  a  statement  which 
Otho  confirmed,  and  added  that  he  had  valuable 
treasures  at  Eossano,  which,  if  they  would  sail 
thither,  they  might  take  on  board  as  his  ransom. 

The  Greek  mariners,  deceived  by  the  specious  tale, 
turned  their  vessel's  prow  towards  Eossano,  and  on 
coming  near  that  city,  shifted  their  course  towards 
the  shore.  Otho  had  been  eagerly  awaiting  this 
opportunity.  When  they  had  approached  sufficiently 
near  to  the  land,  he  suddenly  sprang  from  the  deck 


74  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

into  the  sea,  and  swam  ashore  with  a  strength 
and  swiftness  that  soon  brought  him  to  the  strand. 
In  a  short  time  afterwards  he  entered  Rossano,  then 
held  by  his  forces,  and  joined  his  queen,  who  had 
been  left  in  that  city. 

This  singular  adventure  is  told  with  a  number  of 
variations  by  the  several  writers  who  have  related  it, 
most  of  them  significant  of  the  love  of  the  marvel- 
lous of  the  old  chroniclers.  One  writer  tells  us  that 
the  escaping  emperor  was  pursued  and  attacked  by 
the  Greek  boatmen,  and  that  he  killed  forty  of  them 
with  the  aid  of  a  soldier,  named  Probus,  whom  he 
met  on  the  shore.  By  another  we  are  told  that  the 
Greeks  recognized  him,  that  he  enticed  them  to  the 
shore  by  requesting  them  to  take  on  board  his  wife 
and  treasures,  which  had  been  left  at  Rossano,  and 
that  he  sent  young  men  on  board  disguised  as  female 
attendants  of  his  wife,  by  whose  aid  he  seized  the 
vessel.  All  the  stories  agree,  however,  in  saying  that 
Theophania  jeeringly  asked  the  emperor  whether  her 
countrymen  had  not  put  him  in  mortal  fear, — a  jest 
for  which  the  Germans  never  forgave  her. 

To  return  to  the  domain  of  fact,  we  have  but 
further  to  tell  that  the  emperor,  full  of  grief  and 
vexation  at  the  loss  of  his  army,  and  the  slaughter 
of  many  of  the  German  and  Italian  princes  and 
nobles  who  had  accompanied  him,  returned  to  upper 
Italy,  with  the  purpose  of  collecting  another  army. 

All  his  conquests  in  the  south  had  fallen  again  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy,  and  his  work  remained  to 
bo  done  over  again.  He  held  a  grand  assembly  in 
Verona,  in  which  he  had  his  son  Otho,  three  years 


THE   REIGN   OF   OTHO   II.  75 

old,  elected  as  his  successor.  From  there  he  pro- 
ceeded to  Borne,  in  which  city  he  was  attacked  by  a 
violent  fever,  brought  on  by  the  grief  and  excitement 
into  which  his  reverses  had  thrown  his  susceptible 
and  impatient  mind.  He  died  December  7,  983,  and 
was  buried  in  the  church  of  St.  Peter,  at  Borne. 

The  fancy  of  the  chroniclers  has  surrounded  his 
death  with  legends,  which  are  worth  repeating  as 
curious  examples  of  what  mediaeval  writers  offered 
and  mediaeval  readers  accepted  as  history.  One  of 
them  tells  the  story  of  a  naval  engagement  between 
Otho  and  the  Greeks,  in  which  the  fight  was  so  bitter 
that  the  whole  sea  around  the  vessels  was  stained 
red  with  blood.  The  emperor  won  the  victory,  but 
received  a  mortal  wound. 

Another  story,  which  does  not  trouble  itself  to  sail 
very  close  to  the  commonplace,  relates  that  Otho  met 
his  end  by  being  whipped  to  death  on  Mount  Gar- 
ganus  by  the  angels,  among  whom  he  had  impru- 
dently ventured  while  they  were  holding  a  conclave 
there.  These  stories  will  serve  as  examples  of  the 
degree  of  credibility  of  many  of  the  ancient  chroni- 
cles and  the  credulity  of  their  readers. 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  HENRY 
THE  FOURTH 

At  the  festival  of  Easter,  in  the  year  1062,  a  great 
banquet  was  given  in  the  royal  palace  at  Kaisers- 
werth,  on  the  Ehine.  The  Empress  Agnes,  widow 
of  Henry  III.,  and  regent  of  the  empire,  was  present, 
with  her  son,  then  a  boy  of  eleven.  A  pious  and 
learned  woman  was  the  empress,  but  she  lacked  the 
energy  necessary  to  control  the  unquiet  spirits  of 
her  times.  Gentleness  and  persuasion  were  the 
means  by  which  she  hoped  to  influence  the  rude 
dukes  and  haughty  archbishops  of  the  empire,  but 
qualities  such  as  these  were  wasted  on  her  fierce 
subjects,  and  served  but  to  gain  her  the  contempt  of 
some  and  the  dislike  of  others.  A  plot  to  depose 
the  weakly-mild  regent  and  govern  the  empire  in 
the  name  of  the  youthful  monarch  was  made  by 
three  men,  Otto  of  Norheim,  the  greatest  general  of 
the  state,  Ekbert  of  Meissen,  its  most  valiant  knight, 
and  Hanno,  Archbishop  of  Cologne,  its  leading 
churchman.  These  three  men  were  present  at  the 
banquet,  which  they  had  fixed  upon  as  the  occasion 
for  carrying  out  their  plot. 

The  feast  over,  the  three  men  rose  and  walked 
with  the  boy  monarch  to  a  window  of  the  palace 
76 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  HENRY  THE  FOURTH.     77 

that  overlooked  the  Ehine.  On  the  waters  before 
them  rode  at  anchor  a  handsome  vessel,  which  the 
child  looked  upon  with  eyes  of  delight. 

"  Would  you  like  to  see  it  closer  ?"  asked  Hanno. 
"  I  will  take  you  on  board,  if  you  wish." 

"  Oh,  will  you  ?"  pleaded  the  boy.  "  I  shall  be  so 
glad." 

The  three  conspirators  walked  with  him  to  the 
stream,  and  rowed  out  to  the  vessel,  the  empress 
viewing  them  without  suspicion  of  their  design.  But 
her  doubts  were  aroused  when  she  saw  that  the 
anchor  had  been  raised  and  that  the  sails  of  the 
vessel  were  being  set.  Filled  with  sudden  alarm  she 
left  the  palace  and  hastened  to  the  shore,  just  as  the 
kidnapping  craft  began  to  move  down  the  waters  of 
the  stream. 

At  the  same  moment  young  Henry,  who  had  until 
now  been  absorbed  in  gazing  delightedly  about  the 
vessel,  saw  what  was  being  done,  and  heard  his 
mother's  cries.  "With  courage  and  resolution  un- 
usual for  his  years  he  broke,  with  a  cry  of  anger, 
from  those  surrounding  him,  and  leaped  into  the 
stream,  with  the  purpose  of  swimming  ashore.  But 
hardly  had  he  touched  the  water  when  Count  Ekbert 
sprang  in  after  him,  seized  him  despite  his  struggles, 
and  brought  him  back  to  the  vessel. 

The  empress  entreated  in  pitiful  accents  for  the 
return  of  her  son,  but  in  vain ;  the  captors  of  the 
boy  were  not  of  the  kind  to  let  pity  interfere  with 
their  plans ;  on  down  the  broad  stream  glided  the 
vessel,  the  treacherous  vassals  listening  in  silence  to 
the  agonized  appeals  of  the  distracted  mother,  and 
7* 


78  HISTORICAL  TALES. 

to  the  mingled  prayers  and  demands  of  the  young 
emperor  to  be  taken  back.  The  country  people, 
furious  on  learning  that  the  emperor  had  been  stolen, 
and  was  being  carried  away  before  their  eyes,  pur- 
sued the  vessel  for  some  distance  on  both  sides  of  the 
river.  But  their  cries  and  threats  were  of  no  more 
avail  than  had  been  the  mother's  tears  and  prayers. 
The  vessel  moved  on  with  increasing  speed,  the  three 
kidnappers  erect  on  its  deck,  their  only  words  being 
those  used  to  cajole  and  quiet  their  unhappy  prisoner, 
whom  they  did  their  utmost  to  solace  by  promises 
and  presents. 

The  vessel  continued  its  course  until  it  reached 
Cologne,  where  the  imperial  captive  was  left  under 
the  charge  of  the  archbishop,  his  two  confederates 
fully  trusting  him  to  keep  close  watch  and  ward  over 
their  precious  prize.  The  empress  was  of  the  same 
opinion.  After  vainly  endeavoring  to  regain  her 
lost  son  from  his  powerful  captors,  she  resigned  the 
regency  and  retired  with  a  broken  heart  to  an  Italian 
convent,  in  which  the  remainder  of  her  sad  life  was 
to  be  passed. 

The  unhappy  boy  soon  learned  that  his  new  lot 
was  not  to  be  one  of  pleasure.  He  had  a  life  of 
severe  discipline  before  him.  Bishop  Hanno  was  a 
stern  and  rigid  disciplinarian,  destitute  of  any  of  the 
softness  to  which  the  lad  had  been  accustomed,  and 
disposed  to  rule  all  under  his  control  with  a  rod  of 
iron.  He  kept  his  youthful  captive  strictly  immured 
in  the  cloister,  where  he  had  to  endure  the  severest 
discipline,  while  being  educated  in  Latin  and  the 
other  learning  of  the  age. 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  HENRY  THE  FOURTH.     79 

The  regency  given  up  by  Agnes  was  instantly  as* 
sumed  by  the  ambitious  churchman,  and  a  decree  to 
that  effect  was  quickly  passed  by  the  lords  of  the 
diet,  on  the  grounds  that  Hanno  was  the  bishop  of 
the  diocese  in  which  the  emperor  resided.  As  to  the 
character  of  this  potentate  of  the  church,  an  anec- 
dote which  is  on  record  will  give  a  satisfactory  idea. 
A  struggle  had  arisen  between  him,  as  episcopal  lord 
of  the  city,  and  the  merchants  who  did  a  shipping 
and  other  business  in  Cologne.  The  feud  was 
brought  to  its  head  by  an  arbitrary  act  of  the  ser- 
vants of  the  bishop.  Seizing  a  merchantman  which 
lay  beside  the  city  quays,  heavily  ladeu,  they  relieved 
it  of  its  cargo,  and  then  laid  an  embargo  on  it  as  a 
pleasure-boat  for  their  master. 

This  act  of  autocratic  injustice  was  instantly  re- 
sented. The  son  of  the  injured  merchant  hastened 
with  his  men  to  the  spot,  drove  out  the  servants,  and 
took  possession  again  of  the  vessel.  In  a  brief  time 
the  city  was  in  a  blaze.  Hanno  ordered  that  the 
peace  should  be  preserved,  but  refused  to  pass  judg- 
ment on  the  offenders.  The  people,  furious  at  his 
injustice,  and  doubtless  moved  by  former  acts  of  simi- 
lar arbitrary  character,  rose  en  masse,  stormed  and 
destroyed  the  episcopal  palace,  and  assailed  the  church 
of  St.  Peter,  within  which  the  tyrannous  archbishop 
had  taken  refuge. 

Hanno  managed  to  escape  under  cover  of  the 
night,  left  the  city,  and  collected  an  army  of  his 
vassals,  with  which  he  quickly  appeared  before  the 
gates  of  Cologne.  The  alarmed  citizens,  finding 
themselves  unable  to  contend  with  their  vigorous 


80  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

foe,  now  begged  for  mercy,  but  the  stern  bishop 
refused  to  make  any  promises,  and  was  permitted  to 
enter  the  city  without  having  given  any  pledge  to 
his  opponents.  Fearing  some  cruel  reprisal,  six 
hundred  of  the  merchants  had  left  the  city  during 
the  night,  carrying  with  them  their  movable  goods. 
But  the  young  man  who  had  taken  the  vessel,  with 
his  adherents,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  harsh  and 
unjust  churchman,  who  caused  all  of  them  to  be 
deprived  of  sight.  No  better  commentary  on  the 
manners  of  the  time  could  be  given  than  this  high 
handed  act  of  cruelty,  in  which  a  dignitary  of  the 
church  could  display  such  manifest  injustice  and  in- 
humanity and  still  retain  his  position  and  influence. 
Another  evidence  to  the  same  effect  is  the  fact  that 
Hanno  was  canonized  after  his  death,  his  sole  claims 
to  saintship  being  that  he  had  improved  the  city  of 
Cologne  and  adorned  it  with  churches. 

Young  Henry  remained  but  a  year  or  two  in  the 
hands  of  this  stern  taskmaster.  An  imperative 
necessity  called  Hanno  to  Italy,  and  he  was  obliged 
to  leave  the  young  monarch  under  the  charge  of 
Adalbert,  Archbishop  of  Bremen,  a  personage  of 
very  different  character  from  himself.  Adalbert  was 
one  of  the  most  polished  and  learned  men  of  his 
time,  at  once  handsome,  witty,  and  licentious,  his 
character  being  in  the  strongest  contrast  to  the 
stern  harshness  of  Hanno  and  the  coarse  manners 
of  the  nobles  of  that  period. 

It  would  have  been  far  better,  however,  for  Henry 
could  he  have  remained  under  the  control  of  Hanno, 
with  all  his  severity.     It  is  true  that  the  kindness 


THE  FORTUNES  OP  HENRY  THE  FOURTH.     81 

and  gentleness  of  Adalbert  proved  a  delightful 
change  to  the  growing  boy,  and  the  unlimited  liberty 
he  now  enjoyed  was  in  pleasant  contrast  to  his  re- 
cent restraint,  while  the  gravity  and  severe  study 
of  Hanno's  cloister  were  agreeably  replaced  by  the 
gay  freedom  of  Adalbert's  court,  in  which  the  most 
serious  matters  were  treated  as  lightly  as  a  jest.  But 
the  final  result  of  the  change  was  that  the  boy's 
character  became  thoroughly  corrupted.  Adalbert 
surrounded  his  youthful  charge  with  constant  allur- 
ing amusements,  and  even  exposed  him  to  the  blan- 
dishments of  beautiful  courtesans,  using  the  influence 
thus  gained  to  obtain  new  power  in  the  state  for 
himself,  and  places  of  honor  and  profit  for  his  par- 
tisans. He  inspired  him  also  with  a  contempt  for 
the  rude-mannered  dukes  of  the  empire,  and  for 
what  he  called  the  stupid  German  people,  while  he 
particularly  filled  the  boy's  mind  with  a  dislike  for 
the  Saxons,  with  whom  the  archbishop  was  at  feud. 
All  this  was  to  have  an  important  influence  on  the 
future  life  of  the  growing  monarch. 

It  was  more  Henry's  misfortune  than  his  fault 
that  he  grew  up  to  manhood  as  a  compound  of  sen- 
suality, levity,  malice,  treachery,  and  other  mean 
qualities,  for  his  nature  had  in  it  much  that  was  good, 
and  in  his  after-life  he  displayed  noble  qualities  which 
had  been  long  hidden  under  the  corrupting  faults  of 
his  education.  The  crime  of  the  ambitious  nobles  who 
stole  him  from  his  pious  and  gentle  mother  went  far 
to  ruin  his  character,  and  was  the  leading  cause  of 
the  misfortunes  of  his  life. 

As  to  the  character  of  the  youthful  monarch,  and 
iv.— f 


OZ  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

its  influence  upon  the  people,  a  few  words  may  suffice. 
His  licentious  habits  soon  became  a  scandal  and 
shame  to  the  whole  empire,  the  more  so  that  the 
mistresses  with  whom  he  surrounded  himself  were 
seen  in  public  adorned  with  gold  and  precious  stones 
which  had  been  taken  from  the  consecrated  vessels 
of  the  church.  His  dislike  of  the  Saxons  was  mani- 
fested in  the  scorn  with  which  he  treated  this  section 
of  his  people,  and  the  taxes  and  enforced  labors  with 
which  they  were  oppressed. 

The  result  of  all  this  was  an  outbreak  of  rebellion. 
Hanno,  who  had  beheld  with  grave  disapproval  the 
course  taken  by  Adalbert,  now  exerted  his  great  in- 
fluence in  state  affairs,  convoked  an  assembly  of  the 
princes  of  the  empire,  and  cited  Henry  to  appear 
before  it.  On  his  refusal,  his  palace  was  surrounded 
and  his  person  seized,  while  Adalbert  narrowly 
escaped  being  made  prisoner.  The  licentious  arch- 
bishop remained  in  concealment  during  the  three 
succeeding  years,  while  the  indignant  Saxons,  taking 
advantage  of  the  opportunity  for  revenge,  laid  waste 
his  lands. 

The  licentious  young  ruler  found  his  career  of  open 
vice  brought  to  a  sudden  end.  The  stern  Hanno 
was  again  in  power.  Under  his  orders  the  dissolute 
courtiers  were  dispersed,  and  Henry  was  compelled 
to  lead  a  more  decorous  life,  a  bride  being  found  for 
him  in  the  person  of  Bertha,  daughter  of  the  Italian 
Margrave  of  Susa,  to  whom  he  had  at  an  earlier  date 
been  affianced.  She  was  a  woman  of  noble  spirit, 
but,  unfortunately,  was  wanting  in  personal  beauty, 
in  consequence  of  which  she  soon  became  an  object 


THE   FORTUNES  OF   HENRY   THE   FOURTH.  83 

of  extreme  dislike  to  her  husband,  a  dislike  which 
her  patience  and  fidelity  seemed  rather  to  increase 
than  to  diminish. 

The  feeling  of  the  young  monarch  towards  his 
dutiful  wife  was  overcome  in  a  singular  manner, 
which  is  well  worth  describing.  Henry  at  first  was 
eager  to  free  himself  from  the  tie  that  bound  him  to 
the  unloved  Bertha,  a  resolution  in  which  he  was 
supported  by  Siegfried,  Archbishop  of  Mayence,  who 
offered  to  assist  him  in  getting  a  divorce, — for  which 
service  he  was  to  be  paid  by  an  estate  in  Thuringia. 
At  a  diet  held  at  Worms,  Henry  demanded  a  separa- 
tion from  his  wife,  to  whom  he  professed  an  uncon- 
querable aversion.  His  efforts,  however,  were  frus- 
trated by  the  pope's  legate,  who  arrived  in  Germany 
during  these  proceedings,  and  the  licentious  monarch, 
finding  himself  foiled  in  these  legal  steps,  sought  to 
gain  his  end  by  baser  means.  He  caused  beautiful 
women  and  maidens  to  be  seized  in  their  homes  and 
carried  to  his  palace  as  ministers  to  his  pleasure,  while 
he  exposed  the  unhappy  empress  to  the  base  solici- 
tations of  his  profligate  companions,  offering  them 
large  sums  if  they  could  ensnare  her,  in  her  natural 
revulsion  at  his  shameless  unfaithfulness. 

But  the  virtue  of  Bertha  was  proof  against  all 
such  wiles,  and  the  story  goes  that  she  turned  the 
tables  on  her  vile-intentioned  husband  in  an  amusing 
and  decisive  manner.  On  one  occasion,  as  we  are 
informed,  the  empress  appeared  to  listen  to  the  solici- 
tations of  one  of  the  would-be  seducers,  and  ap- 
pointed a  place  and  time  for  a  secret  meeting  with 
this  profligate.      The  triumphant  courtier  duly  re- 


84  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

ported  his  success  to  Henry,  who,  overjoyed,  decided 
to  replace  him  in  disguise.  At  the  hour  fixed  he 
appeared  and  entered  the  chamber  named  by  Bertha, 
when  he  suddenly  found  himself  assailed  by  a  score 
of  stout  servant-maids,  armed  with  rods,  which  they 
laid  upon  his  back  with  all  the  vigor  of  their  arms. 
The  surprised  Lothario  ran  hither  and  thither  to 
escape  their  blows,  crying  out  that  he  was  the  king. 
In  vain  his  cries ;  they  did  not  or  would  not  believe 
him ;  and  not  until  he  had  been  most  soundly  beaten, 
and  their  arms  were  weary  with  the  exercise,  did 
they  open  the  door  of  the  apartment  and  suffer  the 
crest-fallen  reprobate  to  escape. 

This  would  seem  an  odd  means  of  gaining  the 
affection  of  a  truant  husband,  but  it  is  said  to  have 
had  this  effect  upon  Henry,  his  wronged  wife  from 
that  moment  gaining  a  place  in  his  heart,  into  which 
she  had  fairly  cudgelled  herself.  The  man  was  really 
of  susceptible  disposition,  and  her  invincible  fidelity 
had  at  length  touched  him,  despite  himself.  From 
that  moment  he  ceased  his  efforts  to  get  rid  of  her, 
treated  her  with  more  consideration,  and  finally 
settled  down  to  the  fact  that  a  beautiful  character 
was  some  atonement  for  a  homely  face,  and  that 
Bertha  was  a  woman  well  worthy  his  affection. 

We  have  now  to  describe  the  most  noteworthy 
event  in  the  life  of  Henry  IT.,  and  the  one  which  hat* 
made  his  name  famous  in  history, — his  contest  with 
the  great  ecclesiastic  Hildebrand,  who  had  become 
pope  under  the  title  of  Gregory  VII.  Though  an 
aged  man  when  raised  to  the  papacy,  Gregory's  vig- 
orous character  displayed  itself  in  a  remarkable  ac- 


THE  FORTUNES  OP  HENRY  THE  FOURTH.     85 

tivity  in  the  enhancement  of  the  power  of  the  church. 
His  first  important  step  was  to  decree  the  celibacy 
of  all  the  clergy.  Up  to  this  period  (1074)  only  the 
monks  had  lived  a  live  of  celibacy,  the  priests  and 
bishops  freely  marrying.  A  second  decree  of  equal 
importance  followed.  Gregory  forbade  the  election 
of  bishops  by  the  laity,  reserving  this  power  to  the 
clergy,  under  confirmation  by  the  pope.  He  further 
declared  that  the  church  was  independent  of  the 
state,  and  that  the  extensive  lands  held  by  the  bishops 
were  the  property  of  the  church,  and  free  from 
control  by  the  monarch. 

These  radical  decrees  naturally  aroused  a  strong 
opposition,  in  the  course  of  which  Henry  came  into 
violent  controversy  with  the  pope.  Gregory  accused 
Henry  openly  of  simony,  haughtily  bade  him  to  come 
to  Eome,  and  excommunicated  the  bishops  who  had 
been  guilty  of  the  same  offence.  The  emperor,  who 
did  not  know  the  man  with  whom  he  had  to  deal, 
retorted  by  calling  an  assembly  of  the  German 
bishops  at  Worms,  in  which  the  pope  was  declared 
to  be  deposed  from  his  office. 

The  result  was  very  different  from  that  looked 
for  by  the  volatile  young  ruler.  The  vigorous  and 
daring  pontiff  at  once  placed  Henry  himself  under 
interdict,  releasing  his  subjects  from  their  oath  of 
allegiance,  and  declaring  him  deprived  of  the  imperial 
dignity.  The  scorn  with  which  the  emperor  heard 
of  this  decree  was  soon  changed  to  terror  when  he 
perceived  its  effect  upon  his  people.  The  days  were 
not  yet  come  in  which  the  voice  of  the  pope  could 
be  disregarded.     With  the  exception  of  the  people 

8 


86  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

of  the  cities  and  the  free  peasantry,  who  were  opposed 
to  the  papal  dominion,  all  the  subjects  of  the  empire 
deserted  Henry,  avoiding  him  as  though  he  were  in- 
fected with  the  plague.  The  Saxons  flew  to  arms : 
the  foreign  garrisons  were  expelled ;  the  imprisoned 
princes  were  released ;  all  the  enemies  whom  Henry 
had  made  rose  against  him ;  and  in  a  diet,  held  at 
Oppenheim,  the  emperor  was  declared  deposed  while 
the  interdict  continued,  and  the  pope  was  invited  to 
visit  Augsburg,  in  order  to  settle  the  affairs  of  Ger- 
many. The  election  of  a  successor  to  Henry  was 
even  proposed,  and,  to  prevent  him  from  communi- 
cating with  the  pope,  his  enemies  passed  a  decree 
that  he  should  remain  in  close  residence  at  Spires. 

The  situation  of  the  recently  great  monarch  had 
suddenly  become  desperate.  Never  had  a  decree  of 
excommunication  against  a  crowned  ruler  been  so 
completely  effective.  The  frightened  emperor  saw 
but  one  hope  left,  to  escape  to  Italy  before  the  princes 
could  prevent  him,  and  obtain  release  from  the  inter- 
dict at  any  cost,  and  with  whatever  humiliation  it 
might  involve.  With  this  end  in  view  he  at  once 
took  to  flight,  accompanied  by  Bertha,  his  infant  son, 
and  a  single  knight,  and  made  his  way  with  all  haste 
towards  the  Alps. 

The  winter  was  one  of  the  coldest  that  Germany 
had  ever  known,  the  Ehine  remaining  frozen  from 
St.  Martin's  day  of  1076  to  April,  1077.  About 
Christmas  of  this  severe  winter  the  fugitives  reached 
the  snow-covered  Alps,  having  so  far  escaped  the 
agents  of  their  enemies,  and  crossed  the  mountains 
by  tho  St.  Bernard  pass,  the  difficulty  of  the  journey 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   HENRY   THE   FOURTH.  Ok 

being  so  great  that  the  empress  had  to  be  slid  down 
the  precipitous  paths  by  ropes  in  the  hands  of  guides, 
she  being  wrapped  in  an  ox-hide  for  protection. 

Italy  was  at  length  reached,  after  the  greatest 
dangers  and  hardships  had  been  surmounted.  Here 
Henry,  much  to  his  surprise,  found  prevailing  a  very 
different  spirit  from  that  which  he  had  left  behind  him. 
The  nobles,  who  cordially  hated  Gregory,  and  the 
bishops,  many  of  whom  were  under  interdict,  hailed 
his  coming  with  joy,  with  the  belief  "  that  the  em- 
peror was  coming  to  humiliate  the  haughty  pope  by 
the  power  of  the  sword."  He  might  soon  have  had 
an  army  at  his  back,  but  that  he  was  too  thoroughly 
downcast  to  think  of  anything  but  conciliation,  and 
to  the  disgust  of  the  Italians  insisted  on  humiliating 
himself  before  the  powerful  pontiff. 

Gregory  was  little  less  alarmed  than  the  emperor 
on  learning  of  Henry's  sudden  arrival  in  Italy.  He 
was  then  on  his  way  to  Augsburg,  and,  in  doubt  as  to 
the  intentions  of  his  enemy,  took  hasty  refuge  in  the 
castle  of  Canossa,  then  held  by  the  Countess  Matilda, 
recently  a  widow,  and  the  most  powerful  and  influ- 
ential princess  in  Italy. 

But  the  alarmed  pope  was  astonished  and  gratified 
when  he  learned  that  the  emperor,  instead  of  intend- 
ing an  armed  assault  upon  him,  had  applied  to  the 
Countess  Matilda,  asking  her  to  intercede  in  his  be- 
half with  the  pontiff.  Gregory's  acute  mind  quickly 
perceived  the  position  in  which  Henry  stood,  and 
determined  to  take  full  advantage  of  it.  Putting  on 
an  air  of  great  severity,  he  at  first  refused  to  speak 
of  a  reconciliation,  but  referred  all  to  the  diet ;  then, 


88  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

on  renewed  entreaties,  he  consented  to  receive  Henry 
at  Canossa,  if  he  would  come  alone,  and  as  a  penitent, 
wearing  a  shirt  of  hair  and  with  naked  feet.  The 
humbled  emperor  gladly  accepted  these  harsh  terms, 
and  approached  the  fortress  with  a  small  escort,  being 
clad  as  Gregory  had  commanded.  No  sooner  had  he 
advanced  within  the  outer  gate  than  it  was  shut 
behind  him,  his  attendants  being  left  without,  and 
the  inner  gate  still  being  closed. 

In  this  situation,  enclosed  between  the  double  walls 
of  the  castle,  which  he  was  unable  either  to  enter  or 
to  escape  from,  and  exposed  barefooted  and  bare- 
headed to  the  severe  winter  cold,  the  obdurate  pontiff 
kept  the  imperial  penitent  for  three  days  and  three 
nights,  without  food  or  shelter,  and  with  only  a 
single  woollen  garment  to  protect  him  from  the  bitter 
chill.  The  countess  vainly  pleaded  for  him  with  the 
stern  old  man,  and  Henry  earnestly  prayed  that  at 
least  he  might  be  allowed  to  go  out  again,  since  per- 
mission to  enter  was  refused  him.  Not  until  the 
fourth  day,  moved  at  length  by  the  solicitations  of 
Matilda  and  those  about  him,  did  Gregory  grant  per- 
mission for  Henry  to  enter  his  presence.  An  inter- 
view now  took  place,  in  which  the  pope  consented  to 
release  the  penitent  emperor  from  the  interdict,  but 
only  under  the  severest  conditions.  He  was  to  leave 
to  Gregory  the  settlement  of  affairs  in  Germany,  and 
to  give  up  all  exercise  of  his  imperial  power  until  he 
should  be  granted  permission  to  exercise  it  again. 

This  agreement  was  followed  by  a  solemn  mass,  in 
which  Gregory,  taking  the  holy  wafer  in  his  hands, 
Droke  it  in  two,  saying,  "If  the  crimes  of  which 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  HENRY  THE  FOURTH.     89 

you  accused  me  at  Worms  be  true,  may  the  host  that 
I  now  eat  cause  me  instantly  to  die."  He  then 
swallowed  it,  and  turned  to  the  emperor,  saying, 
'  Now  eat  the  other  half,  and  make  a  similar  pro- 
testation of  your  innocence  of  the  charges  which  I 
have  made  against  you."  Henry  refused,  doubtless 
with  very  good  reason,  and  he  finally  escaped  from 
the  presence  of  the  triumphant  pope,  after  enduring 
the  greatest  humiliation  to  which  crowned  king  was 
ever  subjected  by  a  papal  dignitary. 

This  ended  Henry's  career  of  indignity.  It  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  period  of  triumph.  On  leaving  the  castle 
of  Canossa  he  found  the  Italians  so  indignant  at  his 
cowardice,  that  their  scorn  induced  him  to  break  the 
oath  he  had  just  taken,  gather  an  army,  and  assail 
the  castle,  in  which  he  shut  up  the  pope  so  closely 
that  he  could  neither  proceed  to  Augsburg  nor  return 
to  Eome. 

This  siege,  however,  was  not  of  long  continuance. 
Henry  soon  found  himself  recalled  to  Germany, 
where  his  enemies  had  elected  Eudolf,  Duke  of  Swa- 
bia,  emperor  in  his  stead.  A  war  broke  out,  which 
continued  for  several  years,  at  the  end  of  which 
Gregory,  encouraged  by  a  temporary  success  of 
Eudolf 's  party,  pronounced  in  his  favor,  invested  him 
with  the  empire  as  a  fief  of  the  papacy,  and  once 
more  excommunicated  Henry.  It  proved  a  false 
move.  Henry  had  now  learned  his  own  power,  and 
ceased  to  fear  the  pope.  He  had  strong  support  in 
the  cities  and  among  the  clergy,  whom  Gregory's 
severity  had  offended,  and  immediately  convoked  a 
council,  by  which  the  pope  was  again  deposed,  and 
8* 


90  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

the  Archbishop  of  Eavenna  elected  in  his  stead,  under 
the  title  of  Clement  III. 

In  this  year,  1080,  a  battle  took  place  in  which 
.Rudolf  was  mortally  wounded,  and  the  party  opposed 
to  Henry  left  without  a  leader,  though  the  war  con- 
tinued. And  now  Henry,  seeing  that  he  could  trust 
his  cause  in  Germany  to  the  hands  of  his  lieuten- 
ants, determined  to  march  upon  his  pontifical  foe  in 
Italy,  and  take  re^  enge  for  his  bitter  humiliation  at 
Canossa. 

He  crossed  the  Alps,  defeated  the  army  which 
Matilda  had  raised  in  the  pope's  cause,  and  laid  siege 
to  Eome,  a  siege  which  continued  without  success  for 
the  long  period  of  three  years.  At  length  the  city 
was  taken,  Wilprecht  von  Groitsch,  a  Saxon  knight, 
mounting  the  walls,  and  making  his  way  with  his 
followers  into  the  city,  aided  by  treachery  from  with- 
in. Gregory  hastily  shut  himself  up  in  the  castle  of 
St.  Angelo,  in  which  he  was  besieged  by  the  Eomans 
themselves,  and  from  which  he  bade  defiance  to 
Henry  with  the  same  inflexible  will  as  ever.  Henry 
offered  to  be  reconciled  with  him  if  he  would  crown 
him,  but  the  vigorous  old  pontiff  replied  that,  "  He 
could  only  communicate  with  him  when  he  had  given 
satisfaction  to  God  and  the  church."  The  emperor, 
thereupon,  called  the  rival  pope,  Clement,  to  Eome, 
was  crowned  by  him,  and  returned  to  Germany, 
leaving  Clement  in  the  papal  chair  and  Gregory  still 
shut  up  in  St.  Angelo. 

But  a  change  quickly  took  place  in  the  fortunes 
of  the  indomitable  old  pope.  Eobert  Guiscard,  Duke 
of  Normandy,  who  had  won  for  himself  a  nrincioality 


THE   FORTUNES  OF   HENRY   THE   FOURTH.  91 

in  lower  Italy,  now  marched  to  the  relief  of  his 
friend  Gregory,  stormed  and  took  the  city  at  the 
head  of  his  Norman  freebooters,  and  at  once  began 
the  work  of  pillage,  in  disregard  of  Gregory's  re- 
monstrances. The  result  was  an  unusual  one.  The 
citizens  of  Eome,  made  desperate  by  their  losses, 
gathered  in  multitudes  and  drove  the  plunderers  from 
their  city,  and  Gregory  with  them.  The  Normans, 
thus  expelled,  took  the  pope  to  Salerno,  where  he 
died  the  following  year,  1085,  his  last  words  being, 
"  Because  I  have  loved  justice  and  punished  injustice 
I  die  an  exile." 

As  for  his  imperial  enemy,  the  remainder  of  his 
life  was  one  of  incessant  war.  Years  of  battle  were 
needed  to  put  down  his  enemies  in  the  state,  and  his 
triumph  was  quickly  followed  by  the  revolt  of  his 
own  son,  Henry,  who  reduced  his  father  so  greatly 
that  the  old  emperor  was  thrown  into  prison  and 
forced  to  sign  an  abdication  of  the  throne.  It  is  said 
that  he  became  subsequently  so  reduced  that  he  was 
forced  to  sell  his  boots  to  obtain  means  of  subsistence, 
but  this  story  may  reasonably  be  doubted.  Henry 
died  in  1106,  again  under  excommunication,  so  that 
he  was  not  formally  buried  in  consecrated  ground 
until  1111,  the  interdict  being  continued  for  five  years 
after  his  death. 


ANECDOTES   OF  MEDIEVAL 
GERMANY 

THE    WIVES    OF    WEINSBERG. 

In  the  year  of  grace  1140  a  German  army,  under 
Conrad  III.,  emperor,  laid  siege  to  the  small  town  of 
Weinsberg,  the  garrison  of  which  resisted  with  a 
most  truculent  and  disloyal  obstinacy.  Germany, 
which  for  centuries  before  and  after  was  broken  into 
warring  factions,  to  such  extent  that  its  emperors 
could  truly  say,  "  uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a 
crown,"  was  then  divided  between  the  two  strong 
parties  of  the  Welfs  and  the  Waiblingers, — or  the 
Guelphs  and  the  Ghibellines,  as  pronounced  by  the 
Italians  and  better  known  to  us.  The  "Welfs  were  a 
noble  family  whose  ancestry  could  be  traced  back  to 
the  days  of  Charlemagne.  The  Waiblingers  derived 
their  name  from  the  town  of  Waiblingen,  which  be- 
longed to  the  Hohenstaufen  family,  of  which  the 
Emperor  Conrad  was  a  representative. 

And  now,  as  often  before  and  after,  the  Guelphs 
and  Ghibellines  were  at  war,  Duke  Welf  holding 
Weinsberg  vigorously  against  his  foes  of  the  impe- 
rial party,  while  his  relative,  Count  Welf  of  Altorf, 
marched  to  his  relief.  A  battle  ensued  between  em- 
peror and  count,  which  ended  in  the  triumph  of  the 
92 


ANECDOTES   OP   MEDIAEVAL    GERMANY.  93 

emperor  and  the  flight  of  the  count.  And  this  battle 
is  worthy  of  mention,  as  distinguished  from  the 
hundreds  of  battles  which  are  unworthy  of  mention, 
from  the  fact  that  in  it  was  first  heard  a  war-cry 
which  continued  famous  for  centuries  afterwards. 
The  German  war-cry  preceding  this  period  had  been 
"Kyrie  Eleison"  ("Lord,  have  mercy  upon  us!"  a 
pious  invocation  hardly  in  place  with  men  who  had 
little  mercy  upon  their  enemies).  But  now  the  cry 
of  the  warring  factions  became  "  Hie  Welf,"  "  Hie 
Waiblinger,"  softened  in  Italy  into  "  The  Guelph," 
"The  Ghibelline,"  battle-shouts  which  were  long 
afterwards  heard  on  the  field  of  German  war,  and  on 
that  of  Italy  as  well,  for  the  factions  of  Germany 
became  also  the  factions  of  this  southern  realm. 

So  much  for  the  origin  of  Guelph  and  Ghibelline, 
of  which  we  may  further  say  that  a  royal  represen- 
tative of  the  former  party  still  exists,  in  Queen  Vic- 
toria of  England,  who  traces  her  descent  from  the 
German  Welfs.  And  now  to  return  to  the  siege  of 
Weinsberg,  to  which  Conrad  returned  after  having 
disposed  of  the  army  of  relief.  The  garrison  still 
were  far  from  being  in  a  submissive  mood,  their  de- 
fence being  so  obstinate,  and  the  siege  so  protracted, 
that  the  emperor,  incensed  by  their  stubborn  resist- 
ance, vowed  that  he  would  make  their  city  a  fright- 
ful example  to  all  his  foes,  by  subjecting  its  buildings 
to  the  brand  and  its  inhabitants  to  the  sword.  Fire 
and  steel,  he  said,  should  sweep  it  from  the  face  of 
the  earth. 

Weinsberg  at  length  was  compelled  to  yield,  and 
Conrad,  hot  with  anger,  determined  that  his  cruel 


94  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

resolution  should  be  carried  out  to  the  letter,  the 
men  being  put  to  the  sword,  the  city  given  to  the 
flames.  This  harsh  decision  filled  the  citizens  with 
terror  and  despair.  A  deputation  was  sent  to  the 
angry  emperor,  humbly  praying  for  pardon,  but  he 
continued  inflexible,  the  utmost  concession  he  would 
make  being  that  the  women  might  withdraw,  as 
he  did  not  war  with  them.  As  for  the  men,  they 
had  offended  him  beyond  forgiveness,  and  the  sword 
should  be  their  lot.  On  further  solicitation,  he  added 
to  the  concession  a  proviso  that  the  women  might 
take  away  with  them  all  that  they  could  carry  of 
their  most  precious  possessions,  since  he  did  not  wish 
to  throw  them  destitute  upon  the  world. 

The  obdurate  emperor  was  to  experience  an  un- 
exampled surprise.  When  the  time  fixed  for  the 
departure  of  the  women  arrived,  and  the  city  gates 
were  thrown  open  for  their  exit,  to  the  astonishment 
of  Conrad,  and  the  admiration  of  the  whole  army, 
the  first  to  appear  was  the  duchess,  who,  trembling 
under  the  weight,  bore  upon  her  shoulders  Duke 
Welf,  her  husband.  After  her  came  a  long  line  of 
other  women,  each  bending  beneath  the  heavy  burden 
of  her  husband,  or  of  some  dear  relative  among  the 
condemned  citizens. 

Never  had  such  a  spectacle  been  seen.  So  affect- 
ing an  instance  of  heroism  was  it,  and  so  earnest  and 
pathetic  were  the  faces  appealingly  upturned  to  him, 
that  the  emperor's  astonishment  quickly  changed  to 
admiration,  and  he  declared  that  women  like  these 
had  fairly  earned  their  reward,  and  that  each  should 
keep  the  treasure  she  had  borne.     There  were  those 


ANECDOTES   OF   MEDIAEVAL   GERMANY.  95 

around  him  with  less  respect  for  heroic  deeds,  who 
sought  to  induce  him  to  keep  his  original  resolution, 
but  Conrad,  who  had  it  in  him  to  be  noble  when  not 
moved  by  passion,  curtly  silenced  them  with  the 
remark,  "  An  emperor  keeps  his  word."  He  was  so 
moved  by  the  scene,  indeed,  that  he  not  only  spared 
the  men,  but  the  whole  city,  and  the  doom  of  sword 
and  brand,  vowed  against  their  homes,  was  with- 
drawn through  admiration  of  the  noble  act  of  the 
worthy  wives  of  Weinsberg. 

A    KING    IN    A  QUANDARY. 

From  an  old  chronicle  we  extract  the  follow- 
ing story,  which  is  at  once  curious  and  interesting, 
as  a  picture  of  mediaeval  manners  and  customs, 
though  to  all  seeming  largely  legendary. 

Henry,  the  bishop  of  Utrecht,  was  at  sword's  point 
with  two  lords,  those  of  Aemstel  and  Woerden,  who 
hated  him  from  the  fact  that  a  kinsman  of  theirs, 
Goswin  by  name,  had  been  deposed  from  the  same 
see,  through  the  action  of  a  general  chapter.  In 
reprisal  these  lords,  in  alliance  with  the  Count  of 
Gebria,  raided  and  laid  waste  the  lands  of  the  bishop- 
ric. Time  and  again  they  visited  it  with  plunder- 
ing bands,  Henry  manfully  opposing  them  with  his 
followers,  but  suffering  much  from  their  incursions. 
At  length  the  affair  ended  in  a  peculiar  compact,  in 
which  both  sides  agreed  to  submit  their  differences 
to  the  wager  of  war,  in  a  pitched  battle,  which  was 
to  be  held  on  a  certain  day  in  the  green  meadows 
adjoining  Utrecht. 

When  the  appointed  day  came  both  sides  assembled 


96  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

with  their  vassals,  the  lords  full  of  hope,  the  bishop 
exhorting  his  followers  to  humble  the  arrogance  of 
these  plundering  nobles.  The  Archbishop  of  Cologne 
was  in  the  city  of  Utrecht  at  the  time,  having  re- 
cently visited  it.  He,  as  warlike  in  disposition  as 
the  bishop  himself,  gave  Henry  a  precious  ring, 
saying  to  him, — 

"  My  son,  be  courageous  and  confident,  for  this  day, 
through  the  intercession  of  the  holy  confessor  St. 
Martin,  and  through  the  virtue  of  this  ring,  thou 
shalt  surely  subdue  the  pride  of  thy  adversaries,  and 
obtain  a  renowned  victory  over  them.  In  the  mean 
time,  while  thou  art  seeking  justice,  I  will  faithfully 
defend  this  city,  with  its  priests  and  canons,  in  thy 
behalf,  and  will  offer  up  prayers  to  the  Lord  of  Hosts 
for  thy  success." 

Bishop  Henry,  his  confidence  increased  by  these 
words,  led  from  the  gates  a  band  of  fine  and  well- 
armed  warriors  to  the  sound  of  warlike  trumpets, 
and  marched  to  the  field,  where  he  drew  them  up 
before  the  bands  of  the  hostile  lords. 

Meanwhile,  tidings  of  this  fray  had  been  borne  to 
William,  king  of  the  Eomans,  who  felt  it  his  duty  to 
put  an  end  to  it,  as  such  private  warfare  was  for- 
bidden by  law.  Hastily  collecting  all  the  knights 
and  men-at-arms  he  could  get  together  without  de- 
lay, he  marched  with  all  speed  to  Utrecht,  bent  upon 
enforcing  peace  between  the  rival  bands.  As  it 
happened,  the  army  of  the  king  reached  the  northern 
gate  of  the  city  just  as  the  bishop's  battalion  had 
left  the  southern  gate,  the  one  party  marching  in  as 
the  other  marched  out. 


ANECDOTES   OF   MEDIEVAL    GERMANY.  97 

The  archbishop,  who  had  undertaken  the  defence 
of  the  city,  and  as  yet  knew  nothing  of  this  royal 
visit,  after  making  an  inspection  of  the  city  under 
his  charge,  gave  orders  to  the  porters  to  lock  and 
bar  all  the  gates,  and  keep  close  guard  thereon. 

King  William  was  not  long  in  learning  that  he  was 
somewhat  late,  the  bishop  having  left  the  city.  He 
marched  hastily  to  the  southern  gate  to  pursue  him, 
but  only  to  find  that  he  was  himself  in  custody,  the 
gates  being  firmly  locked  and  the  keys  missing.  He 
waited  awhile  impatiently.  No  keys  were  brought. 
Growing  angry  at  this  delay,  he  gave  orders  that  the 
bolts  and  bars  should  be  wrenched  from  the  gates, 
and  efforts  to  do  this  were  begun. 

While  this  was  going  on,  the  archbishop  was  in 
deep  affliction.  He  had  just  learned  that  the  king 
was  in  Utrecht  with  an  army,  and  imagined  that  he 
bad  come  with  hostile  purpose,  and  had  taken  the 
city  through  the  carelessness  of  the  porters.  Fol- 
lowed by  his  clergy,  he  hastened  to  where  the  king 
was  trying  to  force  a  passage  through  the  gates,  and 
addressed  him  appealingly,  reminding  him  that  jus- 
tice and  equity  were  due  from  kings  to  subjects. 

"  Your  armed  bands,  I  fear,  have  taken  this  city," 
he  said,  "and  you  have  ordered  the  locks  to  be 
broken  that  you  may  expel  the  inhabitants,  and  re- 
place them  with  persons  favorable  to  your  own  in- 
terests. If  you  propose  to  act  thus  against  justice 
and  mercy,  you  injure  me,  your  chancellor,  and  lessen 
your  own  honor.  I  exhort  you,  therefore,  to  restore 
me  the  city  which  you  have  unjustly  taken,  and 
relieve  the  inhabitants  from  violence." 
it.— B       g  9 


98  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

The  king  listened  in  silence  and  surprise  to  this 
harangue,  which  was  much  longer  than  we  have 
given  it.     At  its  end  he  said, — 

"  Yenerable  pastor  and  bishop,  you  have  much 
mistaken  my  errand  in  Utrecht.  I  come  here  in  the 
cause  of  justice,  not  of  violence.  You  know  that  it 
is  the  duty  of  kings  to  repress  wars  and  punish  the 
disturbers  of  peace.  It  is  this  that  brings  us  here,  to 
put  an  end  to  the  private  war  which  we  learn  is  being 
waged.  As  it  stands,  we  have  not  conquered  the 
city,  but  it  has  conquered  us.  To  convince  you  that 
no  harm  is  meant  to  Bishop  Henry  and  his  good  city 
of  Utrecht,  we  will  command  our  men  to  repair  to 
their  hostels,  lay  down  their  arms,  and  pass  their 
time  in  festivity.  But  first  the  purpose  for  which 
we  have  come  must  be  accomplished,  and  this  private 
feud  be  brought  to  an  end." 

That  the  worthy  archbishop  was  delighted  to  hear 
these  words,  need  not  be  said.  His  fears  had  not 
been  without  sound  warrant,  for  those  were  days  in 
which  kings  were  not  to  be  trusted,  and  in  which 
the  cities  maintained  a  degree  of  political  inde- 
pendence that  often  proved  inconvenient  to  the 
throne.  As  may  be  imagined,  the  keys  were  quickly 
forthcoming  and  the  gates  thrown  open,  the  king 
being  relieved  from  his  involuntary  detention,  and 
given  an  opportunity  to  bring  the  bishop's  battle  to 
an  end. 

He  was  too  late;  it  had  already  reached  its  end 
While  King  William  was  striving  to  get  out  of  the 
city,  which  he  had  got  into  with  such  ease,  the  fight 
in  the  green  meadows  between  the  bishops  and  the 


ANECDOTES   OP   MEDIAEVAL   GERMANY.  »» 

lords  had  been  concluded,  the  warlike  churchman 
coming  off  victor.  Many  of  the  lords'  vassals  had 
been  killed,  more  put  to  flight,  and  themselves  taken 
prisoners.  At  the  vesper-bell  Henry  entered  the  city 
with  his  captives,  bound  with  ropes,  and  was  met  at 
the  gates  by  the  king  and  the  archbishop.  At  the 
request  of  King  William  he  pardoned  and  released 
his  prisoners,  on  their  promise  to  cease  molesting  his 
lands,  and  all  ended  in  peace  and  good  will. 

COURTING  BY  PROXY. 

Frederick  von  Stauffen,  known  as  the  One-eyed, 
being  desirous  of  providing  his  son  Frederick  (after- 
wards the  famous  emperor  Frederick  Barbarossa) 
with  a  wife,  sent  as  envoy  for  that  purpose  a  hand- 
some young  man  named  Johann  von  Wtirteniberg, 
whose  attractions  of  face  and  manner  had  made  him 
a  general  favorite.  It  was  the  beautiful  daughter 
of  Rudolf  von  Zahringen  who  had  been  selected  as 
a  suitable  bride  for  the  future  emperor,  but  when 
the  handsome  ambassador  stated  the  purpose  of  his 
visit  to  the  father,  he  was  met  by  Rudolf  with  the 
joking  remark,  "  Why  don't  you  court  the  damsel 
for  yourself?" 

The  suggestion  was  much  to  the  taste  of  the  envoy. 
He  took  it  seriously,  made  love  for  himself  to  the 
attractive  Princess  Anna,  and  won  her  love  and  the 
consent  of  her  father,  who  had  been  greatly  pleased 
with  his  handsome  and  lively  visitor,  and  was  quite 
ready  to  confirm  in  earnest  what  he  had  begun  in 
jest. 

Frederick,  the   One-eyed,  still  remained  to   deal 


100  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

with,  but  that  worthy  personage  seems  to  have  taken 
the  affair  as  a  good  joke,  and  looked  up  another  bride 
for  his  son,  leaving  to  Johann  the  maiden  he  had 
won.  This  story  has  been  treated  as  fabulous,  but  it 
is  said  to  be  well  founded.  It  has  been  repeated  in 
connection  with  other  persons,  notably  in  the  case  of 
Captain  Miles  Standish  and  John  Alden,  in  which 
case  the  fair  maiden  herself  is  given  the  credit  of 
admonishing  the  envoy  to  court  for  himself.  It  is 
very  sure,  however,  that  this  latter  story  is  a  fable. 
It  was  probably  founded  on  the  one  we  have  given. 

THE  BISHOP'S  WINE-CASKS. 

Adalbert  of  Treves  was  a  bandit  chief  of  note 
who,  in  the  true  fashion  of  the  robber  barons  of 
mediaeval  Germany,  dwelt  in  a  strong-walled  castle, 
which  was  garrisoned  by  a  numerous  band  of  men- 
at-arms,  as  fond  of  pillage  as  their  leader,  and 
equally  ready  to  follow  him  on  his  plundering  expe- 
ditions and  to  defend  his  castle  against  his  enemies. 
Our  noble  brigand  paid  particular  heed  to  the  domain 
of  Peppo,  Bishop  of  Treves,  whose  lands  he  honored 
with  frequent  unwelcome  visits,  despoiling  lord  and 
vassal  alike,  and  hastening  back  from  his  raids  to  the 
shelter  of  his  castle  walls. 

This  was  not  the  most  agreeable  state  of  affairs 
for  the  worthy  bishop,  though  how  it  was  to  be 
avoided  did  not  clearly  appear.  It  did  not  occur 
to  him  to  apply  to  the  emperor,  Henry  II., — or  St. 
Henry,  as  he  was  called  (it  seems  to  have  needed  no 
great  stock  of  saintliness  to  make  a  saint  in  those 
sinful  days).    The  mediaeval  German  emperors,  saints 


ANECDOTES   OF   MEDIAEVAL    GPf&MANY..  101* 

and  sinners  alike,  had  too  much  else  on  hand  to  leave 
them  time  to  attend  to  matters  of  minor  importance, 
and  Peppo  naturally  turned  to  his  own  kinsmen, 
friends,  and  vassals,  as  those  most  likely  to  afford 
him  aid. 

Bishop  Peppo  could  wield  sword  and  battle-axe 
with  the  best  bishop,  which  is  almost  equivalent  to 
saying  with  the  best  warrior,  of  his  day,  and  did 
not  fail  to  use,  when  occasion  called,  these  carnal 
weapons.  But  something  more  than  the  battle-axes 
of  himself  and  vassals  was  needed  to  break  through 
the  formidable  walls  of  Adalbert's  stronghold,  which 
frowned  defiance  to  the  utmost  force  the  bishop  could 
muster.  Force  alone  would  not  answer,  that  was 
evident.  Stratagem  was  needed  to  give  effect  to 
brute  strength.  If  some  way  could  only  be  devised 
to  get  through  the  strong  gates  of  the  robber's 
stronghold,  and  reach  him  behind  his  bolts  and  bars, 
all  might  be  well ;  otherwise,  all  was  ill. 

In  this  dilemma,  a  knightly  vassal  of  the  bishop, 
Tycho  by  name,  undertook  to  find  a  passage  into  the 
castle  of  Adalbert,  and  to  punish  him  for  his  pillaging. 
One  day  Tycho  presented  himself  at  the  gate  of  the 
castle,  knocked  loudly  thereon,  and  on  the  appear- 
ance of  the  guard,  asked  him  for  a  cup  of  something 
to  drink,  being,  as  he  said,  overcome  with  thirst. 

He  did  not  ask  in  vain.  It  is  a  pleasant  illustra- 
tion of  the  hospitality  of  that  period  to  learn  that 
the  traveller's  demand  was  unhesitatingly  complied 
with  at  the  gate  of  the  bandit  stronghold,  a  brim- 
ming cup  of  wine  being  brought  for  the  refreshment 
of  the  thirsty  wayfarer. 

9* 


102  HISTORICAL   TALE8. 

"  Thank  your  master  for  me,"  said  Tycho,  on  re- 
turning the  cup,  "and  tell  him  that  I  shall  certainly 
repay  him  with  some  service  for  his  good  will." 

With  this  Tycho  journeyed  on,  sought  the  bishoj)- 
ric,  and  told  Peppo  what  he  had  done  and  what  he 
proposed  to  do.  After  a  full  deliberation  a  definite 
plan  was  agreed  upon,  which  the  cunning  fellow  pro- 
ceeded to  put  into  action.  The  plan  was  one  which 
strongly  reminds  us  of  that  adopted  by  the  bandit 
chief  in  the  Arabian  story  of  the  "  Forty  Thieves," 
the  chief  difference  being  that  here  it  was  true  men, 
not  thieves,  who  were  to  be  benefited. 

Thirty  wine  casks  of  capacious  size  were  prepared, 
and  in  each  was  placed  instead  of  its  quota  of  wine 
a  stalwart  warrior,  fully  armed  with  sword,  shield, 
helmet,  and  cuirass.  Each  cask  was  then  covered 
with  a  linen  cloth,  and  ropes  were  fastened  to  its 
sides  for  the  convenience  of  the  carriers.  This  done, 
sixty  other  men  were  chosen  as  carriers,  and  dressed 
as  peasants,  though  really  they  were  trained  soldiers, 
and  each  had  a  sword  concealed  in  the  cask  he  helped 
to  carry. 

The  preparations  completed,  Tycho,  accompanied 
by  a  few  knights  and  by  the  sixty  carriers  and  their 
casks,  went  his  way  to  Adalbert's  castle,  and,  as 
before,  knocked  loudly  at  its  gates.  The  guard  again 
appeared,  and,  on  seeing  the  strange  procession,  asked 
who  they  were  and  for  what  they  came. 

"  I  have  come  to  repay  your  chief  for  the  cup  of 
wine  he  gave  me,"  said  Tycho.  "  I  promised  that  he 
should  bo  well  rewarded  for  his  good  will,  and  am 
here  for  that  purpose." 


ANECDOTES   OP   MEDIAEVAL   GERMANY.  103 

The  warder  looked  longingly  at  the  array  of  stout 
casks,  and  hastened  with  the  message  to  Adalbert, 
who,  doubtless  deeming  that  the  gods  were  raining 
wine,  for  his  one  cup  to  be  so  amply  returned,  gave 
orders  that  the  strangers  should  be  admitted.  Ac- 
cordingly the  gates  were  opened,  and  the  wine-bearers 
and  knights  filed  in. 

Eeaching  the  castle  hall,  the  casks  were  placed  on 
the  floor  before  Adalbert  and  his  chief  followers, 
Tycho  begging  him  to  accept  them  as  a  present  in 
return  for  his  former  kindness.  As  to  receive  some- 
thing for  nothing  was  Adalbert's  usual  mode  of  life, 
he  did  not  hesitate  to  accept  the  lordly  present,  and 
Tycho  ordered  the  carriers  to  remove  the  coverings. 
In  a  very  few  seconds  this  was  done,  when  out  sprang 
the  armed  men,  the  porters  seized  their  swords  from 
the  casks,  and  in  a  minute's  time  the  surprised  ban- 
dits found  themselves  sharply  attacked.  The  strata- 
gem proved  a  complete  success.  Adalbert  and  his 
men  fell  victims  to  their  credulity,  and  the  fortress 
was  razed  to  the  ground. 

The  truth  of  this  story  we  cannot  vouch  for.  It 
bears  too  suspicious  a  resemblance  to  the  Arabian 
tale  to  be  lightly  accepted  as  fact.  But  its  antiquity 
is  unquestionable,  and  it  may  be  offered  as  a  faithful 
picture  of  the  conditions  of  those  centuries  of  anarchy 
when  every  man's  hand  was  for  himself  and  might 
was  right. 


FREDERICK  BARBAROSSA    AND 
MILAN, 

A  proud  old  city  was  Mian,  heavy  with  its  weight 
of  years,  rich  and  powerful,  arrogant  and  indepen- 
dent, the  capital  of  Lombardy  and  the  lord  of  many 
of  the  Lombard  cities.  For  some  twenty  centuries 
it  had  existed,  and  now  had  so  grown  in  population, 
wealth,  and  importance,  that  it  could  almost  lay 
claim  to  be  the  Eome  of  northern  Italy.  But  its 
day  of  pride  preceded  not  long  that  of  its  downfall, 
for  a  new  emperor  had  come  to  the  German  throne, 
Frederick  the  Eed-bearded,  one  of  the  ablest,  noblest, 
and  greatest  of  all  that  have  filled  the  imperial 
chair. 

Not  long  had  he  been  on  the  throne  before,  in  the 
long-established  fashion  of  German  emperors,  he  be- 
gan to  interfere  with  affairs  in  Italy,  and  demanded 
from  the  Lombard  cities  recognition  of  his  supremacy 
as  Emperor  of  the  West.  He  found  some  of  them 
submissive,  others  not  so.  Milan  received  his  com- 
mands with  contempt,  and  its  proud  magistrates 
went  so  far  as  to  tear  the  seal  from  the  imperial 
edict  and  trample  it  underfoot. 

In  1154  Frederick  crossed  the  Alps  and  encamped 
on  the  Lombardian  plain.  Soon  deputations  from 
104 


FREDERICK   BARBAROSSA   AND   MILAN.  105 

come  of  the  cities  came  to  him  with  complaints  about 
the  oppression  of  Milan,  which  had  taken  Lodi,  Como, 
and  other  towns,  and  lorded  it  over  them  exasper- 
atingly.  Frederick  bade  the  proud  Milanese  to  answer 
these  complaints,  but  in  their  arrogance  they  refused 
even  to  meet  his  envoys,  and  he  resolved  to  punish 
them  severely  for  their  insolence. 

But  the  time  was  not  yet.  He  had  other  matters 
to  attend  to.  Four  years  passed  before  he  was  able 
to  devote  some  of  his  leisure  to  the  Milanese.  They 
had  in  the  meantime  managed  to  offend  him  still 
more  seriously,  having  taken  the  town  of  Lodi  and 
burnt  it  to  the  ground,  for  no  other  crime  than  that 
it  had  yielded  him  allegiance.  After  him  marched 
a  powerful  army,  nearly  one  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  strong,  at  the  very  sight  of  whose  myriad 
of  banners  most  of  the  Lombard  cities  submitted 
without  a  blow.  Milan  was  besieged.  Its  resistance 
was  by  no  means  obstinate.  The  emperor's  princi- 
pal wish  was  to  win  it  over  to  his  side,  and  probably 
the  authorities  of  the  city  were  aware  of  his  lenient 
disposition,  for  they  held  out  no  long  time  before  his 
besieging  multitude. 

All  that  the  conqueror  now  demanded  was  that  the 
proud  municipality  should  humble  itself  before  him, 
swear  allegiance,  and  promise  not  to  interfere  with 
the  freedom  of  the  smaller  cities.  On  the  6th  of 
September  a  procession  of  nobles  and  churchmen 
defiled  before  him,  barefooted  and  clad  in  tattered 
garments,  the  consuls  and  patricians  with  swords 
hanging  from  their  necks,  the  others  with  ropes 
round  their  throats,  and  thus,  with  evidence  of  the 


106  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

deepest  humility,  they  bore  to  the  emperor  the  keys 
of  the  proud  city. 

"  You  must  now  acknowledge  that  it  is  easier  to 
conquer  by  obedience  than  with  arms,"  he  said. 
Then,  exacting  their  oaths  of  allegiance,  placing  the 
imperial  eagle  upon  the  spire  of  the  cathedral,  and 
taking  with  him  three  hundred  hostages,  he  marched 
away,  with  the  confident  belief  that  the  defiant  re- 
sistance of  Milan  was  at  length  overcome. 

He  did  not  know  the  Milanese.  When,  in  the  fol- 
lowing year,  he  attempted  to  lay  a  tax  upon  them, 
they  rose  in  insurrection  and  attacked  his  representa- 
tives with  such  fury  that  they  could  scarcely  save 
their  lives.  On  an  explanation  being  demanded, 
they  refused  to  give  any,  and  were  so  arrogantly 
defiant  that  the  emperor  pronounced  their  city  out- 
lawed, and  wrathfully  vowed  that  he  would  never 
place  the  crown  upon  his  head  again  until  he  had 
utterly  destroyed  this  arrant  nest  of  rebels. 

It  was  not  to  prove  so  easy  a  task.  Frederick 
began  by  besieging  Cremona,  which  was  in  alliance 
with  Milan,  and  which  resisted  him  so  obstinately 
that  it  took  him  seven  months  to  reduce  it  to  sub- 
mission. In  his  anger  he  razed  the  city  to  the 
ground  and  scattered  its  inhabitants  far  and  wide. 

Then  came  the  siege  of  Milan,  which  was  so  vigor- 
ously defended  that  three  years  passed  before  starva- 
tion threw  it  into  the  emperor's  hands.  So  virulent 
were  the  citizens  that  they  several  times  tried  to  rid 
themselves  of  their  imperial  enemy  by  assassination. 
On  one  occasion,  when  Frederick  was  performing  his 
morning  devotions  in  a  solitary  spot  upon  the  river 


FREDERICK   BARBAROSSA   AND   MILAN.  107 

Ada,  a  gigantic  fellow  attacked  him  and  tried  to 
throw  him  into  the  stream.  The  emperor's  cries  for 
help  brought  his  attendants  to  the  spot,  and  the  as- 
sailant, in  his  turn,  was  thrown  into  the  river.  On 
another  occasion  an  old,  misshapen  man  glided  into 
the  camp,  bearing  poisoned  wares  which  he  sought 
to  dispose  of  to  the  emperor.  Frederick,  fortunately, 
had  been  forewarned,  and  he  had  the  would-be  assassin 
seized  and  executed. 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  1162  that  the  city  yielded, 
hunger  at  length  forcing  it  to  capitulate.  Now  came 
the  work  of  revenge.  Frederick  proceeded  to  put 
into  execution  the  harsh  vow  he  had  made,  after  sub- 
jecting its  inhabitants  to  the  greatest  humiliations 
which  he  could  devise. 

For  three  days  the  consuls  and  chief  men  of  the 
city,  followed  by  the  people,  were  obliged  to  parade 
before  the  imperial  camp,  barefooted  and  dressed  in 
sackcloth,  with  tapers  in  their  hands  and  crosses, 
swords,  and  ropes  about  their  necks.  On  the  third 
day  more  than  a  hundred  of  the  banners  of  the  city 
were  brought  out  and  laid  at  the  emperor's  feet. 
Then,  in  sign  of  the  most  utter  humiliation,  the  great 
banner  of  their  pride,  the  Carocium — a  stately  iron 
tree  with  iron  leaves,  drawn  on  a  cart  by  eight  oxen 
— was  brought  out  and  bowed  before  the  emperor. 
Frederick  seized  and  tore  down  its  fringe,  while  the 
whole  people  cast  themselves  on  the  ground,  wailing 
and  imploring  mercy. 

The  emperor  was  incensed  beyond  mercy,  other 
than  to  grant  them  their  lives.  He  ordered  that  a 
part  of  the  wall  should  be  thrown  down,  and  rode 


108  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

through  the  breach  into  the  city.  Then,  after  de- 
liberation, he  granted  the  inhabitants  their  lives,  but 
ordered  their  removal  to  four  villages,  several  miles 
away,  where  they  were  placed  under  the  care  of  im- 
perial functionaries.  As  for  Milan,  he  decided  that 
it  should  be  levelled  with  the  ground,  and  gave  the 
right  to  do  this,  at  their  request,  to  the  people  of 
Lodi,  Cremona,  Pavia,  and  other  cities  which  had 
formerly  been  oppressed  by  proud  Milan. 

The  city  was  first  pillaged,  and  then  given  over  to 
the  hands  of  the  Lombards,  who — such  was  the  dili- 
gence of  hatred — are  said  to  have  done  more  in  six 
days  than  hired  workmen  would  have  done  in  as 
many  months.  The  walls  and  forts  were  torn  down, 
the  ditches  filled  up,  and  the  once  splendid  city  re- 
duced to  a  frightful  scene  of  ruin  and  desolation. 
Then,  at  a  splendid  banquet  at  Pavia,  in  the  Easter 
festival,  the  triumphant  emperor  replaced  the  crown 
upon  his  head. 

His  triumph  was  not  to  continue,  nor  the  humili- 
ation of  Milan  to  remain  permanent.  Time  brings 
its  revenges,  as  the  proud  Frederick  was  to  learn. 
For  five  years  Mian  lay  in  ruins,  a  home  for  owls 
and  bats,  a  scene  of  desolation  to  make  all  observers 
weep ;  and  then  arrived  its  season  of  retribution. 
Frederick's  downfall  came  from  the  hand  of  God, 
not  of  man.  A  frightful  plague  broke  out  in  the 
ranks  of  the  German  army,  then  in  Eome,  carrying 
off  nobles  and  men  alike  in  such  numbers  that  it 
looked  as  if  the  whole  host  might  be  laid  in  the  grave. 
Thousands  died,  and  the  emperor  was  obliged  to  retire 
to  Pavia  with  but  a  feeble  remnant  of  his  numerous 


FREDERICK   BARBAROSSA   AND   MILAN.  109 

army,  nearly  the  whole  of  it  having  been  swept 
away.  In  the  following  spring  he  was  forced  to  leave 
Italy  like  a  fugitive,  secretly  and  in  disguise,  and 
came  so  nearly  falling  into  the  hands  of  his  foes,  that 
he  only  escaped  by  one  of  his  companions  placing 
himself  in  his  bed,  to  be  seized  in  his  stead,  while  he 
fled  under  cover  of  the  night. 

Immediately  the  humbled  cities  raised  their  heads. 
An  alliance  was  formed  between  them,  and  they  even 
ventured  to  conduct  the  Milanese  back  to  their  ruined 
homes.  At  once  the  work  of  rebuilding  was  begun. 
The  ditches,  walls,  and  towers  were  speedily  restored, 
and  then  each  man  went  to  work  on  his  own  habita- 
tion. So  great  was  the  city  that  the  work  of  de- 
struction had  been  but  partial.  Most  of  the  houses, 
all  the  churches,  and  portions  of  the  walls  remained, 
and  by  aid  of  the  other  cities  Milan  soon  regained 
its  old  condition. 

In  1174  Frederick  reappeared  in  Italy,  with  a  new 
army,  and  with  hostile  intentions  against  the  revolted 
cities.  The  Lombards  had  built  a  new  city,  in  a 
locality  surrounded  by  rivers  and  marshes,  and  had 
enclosed  it  with  walls  which  they  sought  to  make  im- 
pregnable. This  they  named  Alexandria,  in  honor  of 
the  pope  and  in  defiance  of  the  emperor,  and  against 
this  Frederick's  first  assault  was  made.  For  seven 
months  he  besieged  it,  and  then  broke  into  the  very 
heart  of  the  place,  through  a  subterranean  passage 
which  the  Germans  had  excavated.  To  all  appear- 
ance the  city  was  lost,  yet  chance  and  courage  saved  it. 
The  brave  defenders  attacked  the  Germans,  who  had 
appeared  in  the  market-place;  the  tunnel,  through 
10 


110  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

great  good  fortune,  fell  in ;  and  in  the  end  the  »'^aperoi 
was  forced  to  raise  the  siege  in  such  haste  that  he  set 
fire  to  his  own  encampment  in  his  precipitate  retreat. 

On  May  29,  1176,  a  decisive  battle  was  fought  at 
Lignano,  in  which  Milan  revenged  itself  on  its  too- 
rigorous  enemy.  The  Carocium  was  placed  in  the 
middle  of  the  Lombard  army,  surrounded  by  three 
hundred  youths,  who  had  sworn  to  defend  ii  unto 
death,  and  by  a  body  of  nine  hundred  picked  cavalry, 
who  had  taken  a  similar  oath. 

Early  in  the  battle  one  wing  of  the  Lombard  army 
wavered  under  the  sharp  attack  of  the  Germans,  and 
threw  into  confusion  the  Milanese  ranks.  Taking 
advantage  of  this,  the  emperor  pressed  towards  their 
centre,  seeking  to  gain  the  Carocium,  with  the  expecta 
tion  that  its  capture  would  convert  the  disorder  of 
the  Lombards  into  a  rout.  On  pushed  the  Germans 
until  the  sacred  standard  was  reached,  and  its  deco- 
rations torn  down  before  the  eyes  of  its  sworn 
defenders. 

This  indignity  to  the  treasured  emblem  of  their 
liberties  gave  renewed  courage  to  the  disordered 
band.  Their  ranks  re-established,  they  charged  upon 
the  Germans  with  such  furious  valor  as  to  drive  them 
back  in  disorder,  cut  through  their  lines  to  the  em- 
peror's station,  kill  his  standard-bearer  by  his  side, 
and  capture  the  imperial  standard.  Frederick,  clad  in 
a  splendid  suit  of  armor,  rushed  against  them  at  the 
head  of  a  band  of  chosen  knights.  But  suddenly  he 
was  seen  to  fall  from  his  horse  and  vanish  under  the 
hot  press  of  struggling  warriors  that  surged  back  and 
forth  around  the  standard. 


FREDERICK   BARBAROSSA   AND   MILAN.  Ill 

This  dire  event  spread  instant  terror  through  the 
German  ranks.  They  broke  and  fled  in  disorder, 
followed  by  the  death-phalanx  of  the  Carocium,  who 
cut  them  down  in  multitudes,  and  drove  them  back 
in  complete  disorder  and  defeat.  For  two  days  the 
emperor  was  mourned  as  slain,  his  unhappy  wife 
even  assuming  the  robes  of  widowhood,  when  sud- 
denly he  reappeared,  and  all  was  joy  again.  He  had 
not  been  seriously  hurt  in  his  fall,  and  had  with  a 
few  friends  escaped  in  the  tumult  of  the  defeat,  and, 
under  the  protection  of  night,  made  his  way  with 
difficulty  back  to  Pavia. 

This  defeat  ended  the  efforts  of  Frederick  against 
Milan,  which  had,  through  its  triumph  over  the  great 
emperor,  regained  all  its  old  proud  position  and  su- 
premacy among  the  Lombard  cities.  The  war  ended 
with  the  battle  of  Lignano,  a  truce  of  six  years  being 
concluded  between  the  hostile  parties.  For  the  en- 
suing eight  years  Frederick  was  fully  occupied  in 
Germany,  in  wars  with  Henry  the  Lion,  of  the 
Guelph  faction.  At  the  end  of  that  time  he  returned 
to  Italy,  where  Milan,  which  he  had  sought  so  strenu- 
ously to  humiliate  and  ruin,  now  became  the  seat  of 
the  greatest  honor  he  could  bestow.  The  occasion 
was  that  of  the  marriage  of  his  son  Henry  to  Con 
stanza,  the  last  heiress  of  Naples  and  Sicily  of  the 
royal  Norman  race.  This  ceremony  took  place  in 
Milan,  in  which  city  the  emperor  caused  the  iron 
crown  of  the  Lombards  to  be  placed  upon  the  head 
of  his  son  and  heir,  and  gave  him  away  in  marriage 
with  the  utmost  pomp  and  festivity.  Milan  had  won 
in  its  great  contest  for  life  and  death. 


112  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

We  may  fitly  conclude  with  the  story  of  the  death 
of  the  great  Frederick,  who,  in  accordance  with  the 
character  of  his  life,  died  in  harness.  In  his  old  age, 
having  put  an  end  to  the  wars  in  Germany  and  Italy, 
he  headed  a  crusade  to  the  Holy  Land,  from  which 
he  was  never  to  return.  It  was  the  most  interesting 
in  many  of  its  features  of  all  the  Crusades,  tho 
leaders  of  the  host  being,  in  addition  to  Frederick 
Barbarossa,  Eichard  Cceur  de  Lion  of  England,  the 
hero  of  romance,  the  wise  Philip  Augustus  of  France, 
and  various  others  of  the  leading  potentates  of 
Europe. 

It  is  with  Frederick  alone  that  we  are  concerned. 
In  1188  he  set  out,  at  the  head  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  trained  soldiers,  on  what  was  destined 
to  prove  a  disastrous  expedition.  Entering  Hungary, 
he  met  with  a  friendly  reception  from  Bela,  its  king. 
Beaching  Belgrade,  he  held  there  a  magnificent  tour* 
nament,  hanged  all  the  robber  Servians  he  could 
capture  for  their  depredations  upon  his  ranks,  and 
advanced  into  Greek  territory,  where  he  punished 
the  bad  faith  of  the  emperor,  Isaac,  by  plundering 
his  country.  Several  cities  were  destroyed  in  re- 
venge for  the  assassination  of  pilgrims  and  of  sick 
and  wounded  German  soldiers  by  their  inhabitants. 
This  done,  Frederick  advanced  on  Constantinople, 
whose  emperor,  to  save  his  city  from  capture,  hastened 
to  place  his  whole  fleet  at  the  disposal  of  the  Ger- 
mans, glad  to  get  rid  of  these  truculent  visitors  at 
any  price. 

Beaching  Asia  Minor,  the  troubles  of  the  crusaders 
began.     They  were  assailed  by  the  Turks,  and  had 


FREDERICK   BARBAROSSA  AND   MILAN.  113 

to  cut  their  way  forward  at  every  step.  Barbarossa 
had  never  shown  himself  a  greater  general.  On  one 
occasion,  when  hard  pressed  by  the  enemy,  he  con- 
cealed a  chosen  band  of  warriors  in  a  large  tent,  the 
gift  of  the  Queen  of  Hungary,  while  the  rest  of  the 
army  pretended  to  fly.  The  Turks  entered  the  camp 
and  began  pillaging,  when  the  ambushed  knights 
broke  upon  them  from  the  tent,  the  flying  soldiers 
turned,  and  the  confident  enemy  was  disastrously 
defeated. 

But  as  the  army  advanced  its  difficulties  increased. 
A  Turkish  prisoner  who  was  made  to  act  as  a 
guide,  being  driven  in  chains  before  the  army,  led 
the  Christians  into  the  gorges  of  almost  impassable 
mountains,  sacrificing  his  life  for  his  cause.  Here, 
foot-sore  and  weary,  and  tormented  by  thirst  and 
hunger,  they  were  suddenly  attacked  by  ambushed 
foes,  stones  being  rolled  upon  them  in  the  narrow 
gorges,  and  arrows  and  javelins  poured  upon  their 
disordered  ranks.  Peace  was  here  offered  them  by 
the  Turks,  if  they  would  pay  a  large  sum  of  money 
for  their  release.  In  reply  the  indomitable  emperor 
sent  them  a  small  silver  coin,  with  the  message  that 
they  might  divide  this  among  themselves.  Then, 
pressing  forward,  he  beat  off  the  enemy,  and  extri- 
cated his  army  from  its  dangerous  situation. 

As  they  pushed  on,  the  sufferings  of  the  army  in- 
creased. Water  was  not  to  be  had,  and  many  were 
forced  to  quench  their  thirst  by  drinking  the  blood 
of  their  horses.  The  army  was  now  divided.  Fred- 
erick, the  son  of  the  emperor,  led  half  of  it  forward 
at  a  rapid  march,  defeated  the  Turks  who  sought  to 
it.— A  10* 


114  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

stop  him,  and  fought  his  way  into  the  city  of  Iconium. 
Here  all  the  inhabitants  were  put  to  the  sword,  and 
the  crusaders  gained  an  immense  booty. 

Meanwhile  the  emperor,  his  soldiers  almost  worn 
out  with  hunger  and  fatigue,  was  surrounded  with 
the  army  of  the  sultan.  He  believed  that  his  son 
was  lost,  and  tears  of  anguish  flowed  from  his  eyes, 
while  all  around  him  wept  in  sympathy.  Suddenly 
rising,  he  exclaimed,  "  Christ  still  lives,  Christ  con- 
quers!" and  putting  himself  at  the  head  of  his 
knights,  he  led  them  in  a  furious  assault  upon  the 
Turks.  The  result  was  a  complete  victory,  ten  thou- 
sand of  the  enemy  falling  dead  upon  the  field.  Then 
the  Christian  army  marched  to  Iconium,  where  they 
found  relief  from  their  hunger  and  weariness. 

After  recruiting  they  marched  forward,  and  on 
June  10,  1190,  reached  the  little  river  Cydnus,  in 
Cilicia.  Here  the  road  and  the  bridge  over  the 
stream  were  so  blocked  up  with  beasts  of  burden  that 
the  progress  of  the  army  was  greatly  reduced.  The 
bold  old  warrior,  impatient  to  rejoin  his  son  Frederick, 
who  led  the  van,  would  not  wait  for  the  bridge  to 
be  cleared,  but  spurred  his  war-horse  forward  and 
plunged  into  the  stream.  Unfortunately,  he  had  mis- 
calculated the  strength  of  the  current.  Despite  the 
efforts  of  the  noble  animal,  it  was  borne  away  by  the 
swift  stream,  and  when  at  length  assistance  reached 
the  aged  emperor  he  was  found  to  be  already  dead. 

Never  was  a  man  more  mourned  than  was  the 
valiant  Barbarossa  by  his  army,  and  by  the  Germans 
on  hearing  of  his  death.  His  body  was  borne  by 
the  sorrowing  soldiers  to  Antioch,  where  it  was  buried 


FREDERICK   BARBAROSSA   AND   MILAN.  115 

in  the  church  of  St.  Peter.  His  fate  was,  perhaps,  a 
fortunate  one,  for  it  prevented  him  from  beholding 
the  loss  of  the  army,  which  was  almost  entirely  de- 
stroyed by  sickness  at  the  city  in  which  his  body  was 
entombed.  His  son  Frederick  died  at  the  siege  of 
Acre,  or  Ptolemais. 

As  regards  the  Germans  at  home,  they  were  not 
willing  to  believe  that  their  great  emperor  could  be 
dead.  Their  superstitious  faith  gave  rise  to  legen- 
dary tales,  to  the  effect  that  the  valiant  Barbarossa 
was  still  alive,  and  would,  some  day,  return  to  yield 
Germany  again  a  dynasty  of  mighty  sovereigns. 
The  story  went  that  the  noble  emperor  lay  asleep 
in  a  deep  cleft  of  Kylfhauser  Berg,  on  the  golden 
meadow  of  Thuringia.  Here,  his  head  resting  on 
his  arm,  he  sits  by  a  granite  block,  through  which,  in 
the  lapse  of  time,  his  red  beard  has  grown.  Here 
he  will  sleep  until  the  ravens  no  longer  fly  around 
the  mountain,  when  he  will  awake  to  restore  the 
golden  age  to  the  world. 

Another  legend  tells  us  that  the  great  Barbarossa 
sits,  wrapped  in  deep  slumber,  in  the  Untersberg, 
near  Salzberg.  His  sleep  will  end  when  the  dead 
pear-tree  on  the  "Walserfeld,  which  has  been  cut  down 
three  times  but  ever  grows  anew,  blossoms.  Then 
will  he  come  forth,  hang  his  shield  on  the  tree,  and 
begin  a  tremendous  battle,  in  which  the  whole  world 
will  join,  and  in  whose  end  the  good  will  overcome 
the  wicked,  and  the  reign  of  virtue  return  to  the 
earth. 


THE  CRUSADE  OF  FREDERICK  II. 

A  remarkable  career  was  that  of  Frederick  II. 
of  Germany,  grandson  of  the  great  Barbarossa. 
crowned  in  1215  under  the  immediate  auspices  of  the 
papacy,  yet  during  all  the  remainder  of  his  life  in 
constant  and  bitter  conflict  with  the  popes.  He  was, 
wc  are  told,  of  striking  personal  beauty,  his  form 
being  of  the  greatest  symmetry,  his  face  unusually 
handsome,  and  marked  by  intelligence,  benevolence, 
and  nobility.  Born  in  a  rude  age,  his  learning  would 
have  done  honor  to  our  own.  Son  of  an  era  in  which 
poetry  was  scarcely  known,  he  cultivated  the  gay 
science,  and  was  one  of  the  earliest  producers  of  the 
afterwards  favorite  form  known  as  the  sonnet.  An 
emperor  of  Germany,  nearly  his  whole  life  was  spent 
in  Sicily.  A  Christian  ruler,  he  lived  surrounded  by 
Saracens,  studying  diligently  the  Arabian  learning, 
dwelling  in  what  was  almost  a  harem  of  Arabian 
beauties,  and  hesitating  not  to  give  expression  to 
what  were  then  viewed  as  the  most  infidel  sentiments. 
The  leader  of  a  crusade,  he  converted  what  was  or- 
dinarily a  tragedy  into  a  comedy,  obtained  possession 
of  Jerusalem  without  striking  a  blow  or  shedding 
a  drop  of  blood,  and  found  himself  excommunicated 
in  the  holy  city  which  he  had  thus  easily  restored  to 
116 


THE  CRUSADE  OF  FREDERICK  II.        117 

Christendom.  Altogether  we  may  repeat  that  the 
career  of  Frederick  II.  was  an  extraordinary  one, 
and  amply  worthy  our  attention. 

The  young  monarch  had  grown  up  in  Sicily,  of 
which  charming  island  he  became  guardian  after  the 
death  of  his  mother,  Constanza.  He  was  crowned 
at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  having  defeated  his  rival,  Otho 
IV. ;  but  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life  in  the 
south,  holding  his  pleasure-loving  court  at  Naples 
and  Palermo,  where  he  surrounded  himself  with  all 
the  refinements  of  life  then  possessed  by  the  Sara- 
cens, but  of  which  the  Christians  of  Europe  were 
lamentably  deficient. 

It  was  in  1220  that  Frederick  returned  from  Ger- 
many to  Italy,  leaving  his  northern  kingdom  in  the 
hands  of  the  Archbishop  of  Cologne,  as  regent.  At 
Eome  he  received  the  imperial  crown  from  the  hands 
of  the  pope,  and,  his  first  wife  dying,  married  Yolinda 
de  Lusignan,  daughter  of  John,  ex-king  of  Jerusalem, 
in  right  of  whom  he  claimed  the  kingdom  of  the 
East. 

Shortly  afterwards  a  new  pope  came  to  the  papal 
chair,  the  gloomy  Gregory  IX.,  whose  first  act  was 
to  order  a  crusade,  which  he  desired  the  emperor 
to  lead.  Despite  the  fact  that  he  had  married  the 
heiress  of  Jerusalem,  Frederick  was  very  reluctant 
to  seek  an  enforcement  of  his  claim  upon  the  holy 
city.  He  had  pledged  himself  when  crowned  at 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  and  afterwards  on  his  coronation  at 
Eome,  to  undertake  a  crusade,  but  Honorius  III., 
the  pope  at  that  time,  readily  granted  him  delay. 
Such  was  not  the  case  with  Gregory,  who  sternly 


118  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Insisted  on  an  immediate  compliance  with  his  pledge, 
and  whose  rigid  sense  of  decorum  was  scandalized 
by  the  frivolities  of  the  emperor,  no  less  than  was 
his  religious  austerity  by  Frederick's  open  intercourse 
with  the  Sicilian  Saracens. 

The  old  contest  between  emperor  and  pope  threat- 
ened to  be  opened  again  with  all  its  former  viru- 
lence. It  was  deferred  for  a  time  by  Frederick,  who, 
after  exhausting  all  excuses  for  delay,  at  length 
yielded  to  the  exhortations  of  the  pope  and  set  sail 
for  the  Holy  Land.  The  crusade  thus  entered  upon 
proved,  however,  to  be  simply  a  farce.  In  three 
days  the  fleet  returned,  Frederick  pleading  illness 
as  his  excuse,  and  the  whole  expedition  came  to  an 
end. 

Gregory  was  no  longer  to  be  trifled  with.  He  de- 
clared that  the  illness  was  but  a  pretext,  that  Fred- 
erick had  openly  broken  his  word  to  the  church,  and 
at  once  proceeded  to  launch  upon  the  emperor  the 
thunders  of  the  papacy,  in  a  bull  of  excommunica- 
tion. 

Frederick  treated  this  fulmination  with  contempt, 
and  appealed  from  the  pope  to  Christendom,  accusing 
Eome  of  avarice,  and  declaring  that  her  envoys  were 
marching  in  all  directions,  not  to  preach  the  word  of 
God,  but  to  extort  money  from  the  people. 

"The  primitive  church,"  he  said,  "founded  on 
poverty  and  simplicity,  brought  forth  numberless 
saints.  The  Eomans  are  now  rolling  in  wealth. 
What  wonder  that  the  walls  of  the  church  are  under- 
mined to  the  base,  and  threaten  utter  ruin." 

For  this  saying  the  pope  launched  against  him  a 


THE  CRUSADE  OF  FREDERICK  II.        119 

more  tremendous  excommunication.  In  return  the 
partisans  of  Frederick  in  Kome,  raising  an  insurrec- 
tion, expelled  the  pope  from  that  city.  And  now  the 
free-thinking  emperor,  to  convince  the  world  that  he 
was  not  trifling  with  his  word,  set  sail  of  his  own 
accord  for  the  East,  with  as  numerous  an  army  as  he 
was  able  to  raise. 

A  remarkable  state  of  affairs  followed,  justifying 
us  in  speaking  of  this  crusade  as  a  comedy,  in  con- 
trast with  the  tragic  character  of  those  which  had 
preceded  it.  Frederick  had  shrewdly  prepared  for 
success,  by  negotiations,  through  his  Saracen  friends, 
with  the  Sultan  of  Egypt.  On  reaching  the  Holy 
Land  he  was  received  with  joy  by  the  German 
knights  and  pilgrims  there  assembled,  but  the  clergy 
and  the  Knight  Templars  and  Hospitallers  carefully 
kept  aloof  from  him,  for  Gregory  had  despatched  a 
swift-sailing  ship  to  Palestine,  giving  orders  that  no 
intercourse  should  be  held  with  the  imperial  enemy 
of  the  church. 

It  was  certainly  a  strange  spectacle,  for  a  man 
under  the  ban  of  the  church  to  be  the  leader  in  an 
expedition  to  recover  the  holy  city.  Its  progress 
was  as  strange  as  its  inception.  Had  Frederick  been 
the  leader  of  a  Mohammedan  army  to  recover  Jeru- 
salem from  the  Christians,  his  camp  could  have  been 
little  more  crowded  with  infidel  delegates.  He  wore 
a  Saracen  dress.  He  discussed  questions  of  philos- 
ophy with  Saracen  visitors.  He  received  presents 
of  elephants  and  of  dancing-girls  from  his  friend  the 
sultan,  to  whom  he  appealed :  "  Out  of  your  good- 
ness, and  your  friendship  for  me,  surrender  to  me 


120  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Jerusalem  as  it  is,  that  I  may  be  able  to  lift  up  my 
head  among  the  kings  of  Christendom." 

Camel,  the  sultan,  consented,  agreeing  to  deliver 
up  Jerusalem  and  its  adjacent  territory  to  the  em- 
peror, on  the  sole  condition  that  Mohammedan  pil- 
grims might  have  the  privilege  of  visiting  a  mosque 
within  the  city.  These  terms  Frederick  gladly  ac- 
cepted, and  soon  after  marched  into  the  holy  city  at 
the  head  of  his  armed  followers  (not  unarmed,  as  in 
the  case  of  Cceur  de  Lion),  took  possession  of  it  with 
formal  ceremony,  allowed  the  Mohammedan  popula- 
tion to  withdraw  in  peace,  and  repeopled  the  city 
with  Christians,  a.d.  1229. 

He  found  himself  in  the  presence  of  an  extraor- 
dinary condition  of  affairs.  The  excommunication 
against  him  was  not  only  maintained,  but  the  pope 
actually  went  so  far  as  to  place  Jerusalem  and  the 
Holy  Sepulchre  under  interdict.  So  far  did  the  viru- 
lence of  priestly  antipathy  go  that  the  Templars  even 
plotted  against  Frederick's  life.  Emissaries  sent  by 
them  gave  secret  information  to  the  sultan  of  where 
he  might  easily  capture  the  emperor.  The  sultan, 
with  a  noble  friendliness,  sent  the  letter  to  Frederick, 
cautioning  him  to  beware  of  his  foes. 

The  break  between  emperor  and  pope  had  now 
reached  its  highest  pitch  of  hostility.  Frederick 
proclaimed  his  signal  success  to  Europe.  Gregory 
retorted  with  bitter  accusations.  The  emperor,  he 
said,  had  presented  to  the  sultan  of  Babylon  the 
sword  given  him  for  the  defence  of  the  faith ;  he 
had  permitted  the  Koran  to  be  preached  in  the  Holy 
Temple  itself;  he  had  even  bound  himself  to  join  the 


THE  CRUSADE  OP  FREDERICK  II.        121 

Saracens,  in  case  a  Christian  army  should  attempt 
to  cleanse  the  city  and  temple  from  Mohammedan 
defilements. 

In  addition  to  these  charges,  accusations  of  murder 
and  other  crimes  were  circulated  against  him,  and  a 
false  report  of  his  death  was  industriously  circulated. 
Frederick  found  it  necessary  to  return  home  with- 
out delay.  He  crowned  himself  at  Jerusalem,  as  no 
ecclesiastic  could  be  found  who  would  perform  the 
ceremony,  and  then  set  sail  for  Italy,  leaving  Eichard, 
his  master  of  the  horse,  in  charge  of  affairs  in  Pales- 
tine. 

Eeaching  Italy,  he  soon  brought  his  affairs  into 
order.  He  had  under  his  command  an  army  of  thirty 
thousand  Saracen  soldiers,  with  whom  it  was  impos- 
sible for  his  enemies  to  tamper.  A  bitter  recrimina- 
tion took  place  with  the  pope,  in  which  the  emperor 
managed  to  bring  the  general  sentiment  of  Europe 
to  his  side,  offering  to  convict  Gregory  of  himself 
entering  into  negotiations  with  the  infidels.  Gregory, 
finding  that  he  was  getting  the  worst  of  the  battle 
with  his  powerful  and  intelligent  enemy,  now  pru- 
dently gave  way,  professing  a  horror  of  shedding 
blood.  Peace  was  made  in  1230,  the  excommunica- 
tion removed  from  the  emperor,  and  for  nine  years 
the  war  between  him  and  the  papacy  was  at  an  end. 

"We  have  told  the  story  of  Frederick's  crusade,  but 
the  remainder  of  his  life  is  of  sufficient  interest  to 
be  given  in  epitome.  In  his  government  of  Sicily  he 
showed  himself  strikingly  in  advance  of  his  period. 
He  enacted  a  system  of  wise  laws,  instituted  repre- 
sentative parliaments,  asserted  the  principle  of  equal 
r  11 


122  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

rights  and  equal  duties,  and  the  supremacy  of  the 
law  over  high  and  low  alike.  All  religions  were 
tolerated,  Jews  and  Mohammedans  having  equal  free- 
dom of  worship  with  Christians.  All  the  serfs  of  his 
domain  were  emancipated,  private  war  was  forbid- 
den, commerce  was  regulated,  cheap  justice  for  the 
poor  was  instituted,  markets  and  fairs  were  estab- 
lished, large  libraries  collected,  and  other  progres- 
sive institutions  organized.  He  established  mena- 
geries for  the  study  of  natural  history,  founded  in 
Naples  a  great  university,  patronized  medical  study, 
provided  cheap  schools,  aided  the  development  of  the 
arts,  and  in  every  respect  displayed  a  remarkable 
public  spirit  and  political  foresight. 

Much  of  this  was  frowned  upon  by  the  pope.  New 
quarrels  arose;  new  wars  broke  out;  the  emperor 
was  again  excommunicated  ;  the  unfortunate  closing 
years  of  Frederick's  career  began.  Again  there  were 
appeals  to  Christendom ;  again  Frederick's  Saracens 
marched  through  Italy ;  such  was  their  success  that 
the  pope  only  escaped  by  death  from  falling  into  the 
hands  of  his  foe.  But  with  a  new  pope  the  old 
quarrel  was  resumed,  Innocent  IY.  flying  to  France 
to  get  out  of  reach  of  the  emperor's  hands,  and 
desperately  combating  him  from  this  haven  of 
refuge. 

The  incessant  conflict  at  length  bowed  down  the 
spirit  of  the  emperor,  now  growing  old.  His  good 
fortune  began  to  desert  him.  In  1249  his  son  Enzio, 
whom  he  had  made  king  of  Sicily,  and  who  was  the 
most  chivalrous  and  handsome  of  his  children,  was 
taken    prisoner   by  the  Bolognese,  who  refused  to 


THE  CRUSADE  OP  FREDERICK  II.        123 

accept  ransom  for  him,  although  his  father  offered  in 
return  for  his  freedom  a  silver  ring  equal  in  circum- 
ference to  their  city.  In  the  following  year  his  long- 
tried  friend  and  councillor,  Peter  de  Yincis,  who  had 
been  the  most  trusted  man  in  the  empire,  was  accused 
of  having  joined  the  papal  party  and  of  attempting 
to  poison  the  emperor.  He  offered  Frederick  a  bev- 
erage, which  he,  growing  suspicious,  did  not  drink, 
but  had  it  administered  to  a  criminal,  who  instantly 
expired. 

Whether  Peter  were  guilty  or  not,  his  seeming 
defection  was  a  sore  blow  to  his  imperial  patron. 
"  Alas !"  moaned  Frederick,  "  I  am  abandoned  by  my 
most  faithful  friends ;  Peter,  the  friend  of  my  heart, 
on  whom  I  leaned  for  support,  has  deserted  me  and 
sought  my  destruction.  Whom  can  I  now  trust? 
My  days  are  henceforth  doomed  to  pass  in  sorrow 
and  suspicion." 

His  days  were  near  their  end.  Not  long  after  the 
events  narrated,  while  again  in  the  field  at  the  head 
of  a  fresh  army  of  Saracens,  he  was  suddenly  seized 
with  a  mortal  illness  at  Firenzuola,  and  died  there 
on  the  13th  of  December,  1250.  He  was  buried  at 
Palermo. 

Thus  died  one  of  the  most  intellectual,  progressive, 
free-thinking,  and  pleasure-loving  emperors  of  Ger- 
many, after  a  long  reign  over  a  realm  in  which  he 
seldom  appeared,  and  an  almost  incessant  period  of 
warfare  against  the  head  of  a  church  of  which  he 
was  supposed  to  be  the  imperial  protector.  Seven 
crowns  were  his, — those  of  the  kingdom  of  Germany, 
and  of  the  Eoman  empire,  the  iron  diadem  of  Lorn- 


124  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

bardy,  and  those  of  Burgundy,  Sicily,  Sardinia,  and 
Jerusalem.  But  of  all  the  realms  under  his  rule  the 
smiling  lands  of  Sicily  and  southern  Italy  were  most 
to  his  liking,  and  the  scene  of  his  most  constant 
abode.  Charming  palaces  were  built  by  him  at 
Naples,  Palermo,  Messina,  and  several  other  places, 
and  in  these  he  surrounded  himself  with  the  noblest 
bards  and  most  beautiful  women  of  the  empire,  and 
by  all  that  was  attractive  in  the  art,  science,  and 
poetry  of  his  times.  Moorish  dancing-girls  and  the 
arts  and  learning  of  the  East  abounded  in  his  court. 
The  Sultan  Camel  presented  him  with  a  rare  tent,  in 
which,  by  means  of  artfully  contrived  mechanism, 
the  movements  of  the  heavenly  bodies  were  repre- 
sented. Michael  Scott,  his  astrologer,  translated 
Aristotle's  "  History  of  Animals."  Frederick  studied 
ornithology,  on  which  he  wrote  a  treatise,  and  pos- 
sessed a  menagerie  of  rare  animals,  including  a  giraffe, 
and  other  strange  creatures.  The  popular  dialect  of 
Italy  owed  much  to  him,  being  elevated  into  a  written 
language  by  his  use  of  it  in  his  love-sonnets.  Of  the 
poems  written  by  himself,  his  son  Enzio,  and  his 
friends,  several  have  been  preserved,  while  his  chan- 
cellor, Peter  de  Yincis,  is  said  to  have  originated  the 
sonnet. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  his  reforms  in  his 
southern  kingdom.  It  was  his  purpose  to  introduce 
similar  reforms  into  the  government  of  Germany, 
abolishing  the  feudal  system,  and  creating  a  central- 
ized and  organized  state,  with  a  well-regulated  system 
of  finance.  But  ideas  such  as  these  were  much  too 
far  in  advance  of  the  age.     State  and  church  alike 


THE  CRUSADE  OP  FREDERICK  II.       125 

opposed  them,  and  Frederick's  intelligent  views  did 
not  long  survive  him.  History  must  have  its  evolu- 
tion, political  systems  their  growth,  and  the  develop- 
ment of  institutions  has  never  been  much  hastened 
or  checked  by  any  man's  whip  or  curb. 

In  1781,  when  the  tomb  of  Frederick  was  opened, 
centuries  after  his  death,  the  institutions  he  had 
advocated  were  but  in  process  of  being  adopted  in 
Europe.  The  body  of  the  great  emperor  was  found 
within  the  mausoleum,  wrapped  in  embroidered  robes, 
the  feet  booted  and  spurred,  the  imperial  crown  on 
its  head,  in  its  hand  the  ball  and  sceptre,  on  its  finger 
a  costly  emerald.  For  five  centuries  and  more  Fred- 
erick had  slept  in  state,  awaiting  the  verdict  of  time 
on  the  ideas  in  defence  of  which  his  life  had  been 
passed  in  battle.  The  verdict  had  been  given,  the 
ideas  had  grown  into  institutions,  time  had  vouch- 
safed the  far-seeing  emperor  his  revenge. 


THE  FALL    OF  THE   GHIBEL- 
LINES. 

The  death  of  Frederick  II.,  in  1250,  was  followed 
by  a  series  of  misfortunes  to  his  descendants,  so 
tragical  as  to  form  a  story  full  of  pathetic  interest. 
His  son  Enzio,  a  man  of  remarkable  beauty  and 
valor,  celebrated  as  a  Minnesinger,  and  of  unusual 
intellectual  qualities,  had  been  taken  prisoner,  as  we 
have  already  told,  by  the  Bolognese,  and  condemned 
by  them  to  perpetual  imprisonment,  despite  the 
prayers  of  his  father  and  the  rich  ransom  offered. 
For  twenty-two  years  he  continued  a  tenant  of  a 
dungeon,  and  in  this  gloomy  scene  of  death  in  life 
survived  all  the  sons  and  grandsons  of  his  father, 
every  one  of  whom  perished  by  poison,  the  sword, 
or  the  axe  of  the  executioner.  It  is  this  dread  story 
of  the  fate  of  the  Hohenstauffen  imperial  house 
which  we  have  now  to  tell. 

No  sooner  had  Frederick  expired  than  the  enemies 
of  his  house  arose  on  every  side.  Conrad  IT.,  his 
eldest  son  and  successor,  found  Germany  so  filled 
with  his  foes  that  he  was  forced  to  take  refuge  in 
Italy,  where  his  half-brother,  Manfred,  Prince  of 
Taranto,  ceded  to  him  the  sovereignty  of  the  Italian 
realm,  and  lent  him  his  aid  to  secure  it.  The  royal 
126 


THE  FALL  OP  THE  GHIBELLINES.       127 

brothers  captured  Capua  and  Naples,  where  Conrad 
signalized  his  success  by  placing  a  bridle  in  the 
mouth  of  an  antique  colossal  horse's  head,  the 
emblem  of  the  city.  This  insult  made  the  inhabi- 
tants his  implacable  foes.  His  success  was  but  tem- 
porary. He  died  suddenly,  as  also  did  his  younger 
brother  Henry,  poisoned,  as  was  supposed,  by  agents 
of  the  papal  faction.  Manfred  succeeded  to  thcs 
kingship  of  the  South,  but  with  the  Guelphs  in 
power  in  Germany,  and  the  pope  his  bitter  foe  in 
Italy,  he  was  utterly  unable  to  establish  his  claim, 
and  was  forced  to  cede  all  lower  Italy,  except 
Taranto,  to  the  pontiff.  But  a  new  and  less  impla- 
cable pope  being  elected,  the  fortunes  of  Manfred 
suddenly  changed,  and  he  was  unanimously  pro- 
claimed king  at  Palermo  in  1258. 

But  the  misfortunes  of  his  house  were  to  pursue 
him  to  the  end.  In  northern  Italy,  the  Guelphs 
were  everywhere  triumphant.  Ezzelino,  one  of 
Frederick's  ablest  generals,  was  defeated,  wounded, 
and  taken  prisoner.  He  soon  after  died.  His  brother 
Alberich  was  cruelly  murdered,  being  dragged  to 
death  at  a  horse's  tail.  The  other  Ghibelline  chiefs 
were  similarly  butchered,  the  horrible  scenes  of 
bloodshed  so  working  on  the  feelings  of  the  suscep 
tible  Italians  that  many  of  them  did  penance  at  the 
grave  of  Alberich,  arrayed  in  sackcloth.  From  this 
circumstance  arose  the  sect  of  the  Flagellants,  who 
ran  through  the  streets,  lamenting,  praying,  and 
wounding  themselves  with  thongs,  as  an  atonement 
for  the  sins  of  the  world. 

In  southern  Italy,  Manfred  for  a  while  was  sue- 


125  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

cessful.  In  1259  he  married  Helena,  the  daughter 
of  Michael  of  Cyprus  and  iEtolia,  a  maiden  of  seven- 
teen years,  and  famed  far  and  wide  for  her  loveliness. 
So  beautiful  were  the  bridal  pair,  and  such  were  the 
attractions  of  their  court,  which,  as  in  Frederick's 
time,  was  the  favorite  resort  of  distinguished  poets 
and  lovely  women,  that  a  bard  of  the  times  declared, 
"  Paradise  has  once  more  appeared  upon  earth." 

Manfred,  like  his  father  and  his  brother  Enzio, 
was  a  poet,  being  classed  among  the  Minnesingers. 
His  marriage  gave  him  the  alliance  of  Greece,  and 
the  marriage  of  Constance,  his  daughter  by  a  former 
wife,  to  Peter  of  Aragon,  gained  him  the  friendship 
of  Spain.  Strengthened  by  these  alliances,  he  was 
able  to  send  aid  to  the  Ghibellines  in  Lombardy/ 
who  again  became  victorious. 

The  Guelphs,  alarmed  at  Manfred's  growing  power, 
now  raised  a  Frenchman  to  the  papal  throne,  who 
induced  Charles  of  Anjou,  the  brother  of  the  French 
monarch,  to  strike  for  the  crown  of  southern  Italy. 
Charles,  a  gloomy  and  priest-ridden,  cold-blooded 
and  cruel  prince,  gladly  accepted  the  pope's  sug- 
gestion, and  followed  by  a  powerful  body  of  French 
knights  and  soldiers  of  fortune,  set  sail  for  Naples 
in  1266.  Manfred  had  unluckily  lost  the  whole  of 
his  fleet  in  a  storm,  and  was  not  able  to  oppose  this 
threatening  invasion,  which  landed  in  Italy  in  his 
despite. 

Nor  was  he  more  fortunate  with  his  land  army. 
The  clergy,  in  the  interest  of  the  Guelph  faction, 
tampered  with  his  soldiers  and  sowed  treason  in  his 
camp.     No  sooner  had  Charles  landed,  than  a  moun- 


THE   FALL   OP   THE    GHIBELLINES.  129 

tain  pass  intrusted  to  the  defence  of  Kiccardo  di 
Caseta  was  treacherously  abandoned,  and  the  French 
army  allowed  to  advance  unmolested  as  far  as  Bene- 
vento,  where  the  two  armies  met. 

In  the  battle  that  followed,  Manfred  defended 
himself  gallantly,  but,  despite  all  his  efforts,  was 
worsted,  and  threw  himself  desperately  into  the 
thick  of  the  fight,  where  he  fell,  covered  with  wounds. 
The  bigoted  victor  refused  him  honorable  burial,  on 
the  score  of  heresy,  but  the  French  soldiers,  nobler- 
hearted  than  their  leader,  and  touched  by  the  beauty 
and  valor  of  their  unfortunate  opponent,  cast  each 
of  them  a  stone  upon  his  body,  which  was  thus 
buried  under  a  mound  which  the  natives  still  know 
as  the  "  rock  of  roses." 

The  wife  and  children  of  Manfred  met  with  a 
pitiable  fate.  On  learning  of  the  sad  death  of  her 
husband  Helena  sought  safety  in  flight,  with  her 
daughter  Beatrice  and  her  three  infant  sons,  Henry, 
Frederick,  and  Anselino;  but  she  was  betrayed  to 
Charles,  who  threw  her  into  a  dungeon,  in  which  she 
soon  languished  and  died.  Of  her  children,  her 
daughter  Beatrice  was  afterwards  rescued  by  Peter 
of  Arragon,  who  exchanged  for  her  a  son  of  Charles 
of  Anjou,  whom  he  held  prisoner ;  but  the  three  boys 
were  given  over  to  the  cruellest  fate.  Immured  in  a 
narrow  dungeon,  and  loaded  with  chains,  they  re- 
mained thus  half-naked,  ill-fed,  and  untaught  for  the 
period  of  thirty-one  years.  Not  until  1297  were 
fchey  released  from  their  chains  and  allowed  to  be 
visited  by  a  priest  and  a  physician.  Charles  of  Anjou, 
meanwhile,  filled  with  the  spirit  of  cruelty  and  am- 
IV. — i 


130  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

bition,  sought  to  destroy  every  vestige  of  the  Hohen- 
stauffen  rule  in  southern  Italy,  the  scene  of  Fred- 
erick's  long  and  lustrous  reign. 

The  death  of  Manfred  had  not  extinguished  all 
the  princes  of  Frederick's  house.  There  remained 
another,  Conradin,  son  of  Conrad  IV.,  Duke  of 
Swabia,  a  youthful  prince  to  whom  had  descended 
some  of  the  intellectual  powers  of  his  noted  grand- 
sire.  He  had  an  inseparable  friend,  Frederick,  son 
of  the  Margrave  of  Baden,  of  his  own  age,  and  like 
him  enthusiastic  and  imaginative,  their  ardent  fancies 
finding  vent  in  song.  One  of  Conradin's  ballads  is 
still  extant. 

As  the  young  prince  grew  older,  the  seclusion  to 
which  he  was  subjected  by  his  guardian,  Meinhard, 
Count  von  Gortz,  became  so  irksome  to  him  that  he 
gladly  accepted  a  proposal  from  the  Italian  Ghibel- 
lines,  to  put  himself  at  their  head.  In  1267  he  set 
out,  in  company  with  Frederick,  and  with  a  follow- 
ing of  some  ten  thousand  men,  and  crossed  the  Alps 
to  Lombardy,  where  he  met  with  a  warm  welcome 
at  Verona  by  the  Ghibelline  chiefs. 

Treachery  accompanied  him,  however,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  his  guardian  Meinhard  and  Louis  of  Bavaria, 
who  persuaded  him  to  part  with  his  German  posses- 
sions for  a  low  price,  and  then  deserted  him,  followed 
by  the  greater  part  of  the  Germans.  Conradin  was 
left  with  but  three  thousand  men. 

The  Italians  proved  more  faithful.  Yerona  raised 
him  an  army ;  Pisa  supplied  him  a  large  fleet ;  the 
Moors  of  Luceria  took  up  arms  in  his  cause ;  even 
Rome  rose  in  his  favor,  and  drove  out  the  pope,  who 


THE   FALL   OF   THE    GHIBELLINES.  131 

retreated  to  Yiterbo.  For  the  time  being  the  Ghib el- 
line  cause  was  in  the  ascendant.  Conradin  marched 
unopposed  to  Eome,  at  whose  gates  he  was  met  by 
a  procession  of  beautiful  girls,  bearing  flowers  and 
instruments  of  music,  who  conducted  him  to  the 
capitol.  His  success  on  land  was  matched  by  a  suc- 
cess at  sea,  his  fleet  gaining  a  signal  victory  over  that 
of  the  French,  and  burning  a  great  number  of  their 
ships. 

So  far  all  had  gone  well  with  the  youthful  heir  of 
the  Hohenstauffens.  Henceforth  all  was  to  go  ill. 
Conradin  marched  from  Eome  to  lower  Italy,  where 
he  encountered  the  French  army,  under  Charles,  at 
Scurcola,  drove  them  back,  and  broke  into  their 
camp.  Assured  of  victory,  the  Germans  grew  care- 
less, dispersing  through  the  camp  in  search  of  booty, 
while  some  of  them  even  refreshed  themselves  by 
bathing. 

While  thus  engaged,  the  French  reserve,  who  had 
watched  their  movements,  suddenly  fell  upon  them 
and  completely  put  them  to  rout.  Conradin  and 
Frederick,  after  fighting  bravely,  owed  their  escape 
to  the  fleetness  of  their  steeds.  They  reached  the 
sea  at  Astura,  boarded  a  vessel,  and  were  about  set- 
ting sail  for  Pisa,  when  they  were  betrayed  into  the 
hands  of  their  pursuers,  taken  prisoners,  and  carried 
back  to  Charles  of  Anjou. 

They  had  fallen  into  fatal  hands ;  Charles  was  not 
the  man  to  consider  justice  or  honor  in  dealing  with 
a  Hohenstauffen.  He  treated  Conradin  as  a  rebel 
against  himself,  under  the  claim  that  he  was  tho 
only  legitimate  king,  and  sentenced  both  the  princes, 


132  HISTORICAL   TALE8. 

then  but  sixteen  years  of  age,  to  be  publicly  beheaded 
in  the  market-place  at  Naples. 

Conradin  was  playing  at  chess  in  prison  when  the 
news  of  this  unjust  sentence  was  brought  to  him. 
He  calmly  listened  to  it,  with  the  courage  native  to 
his  race.  On  October  22,  1268,  he,  with  Frederick 
and  his  other  companions,  was  conducted  to  the 
scaffold  erected  in  the  market-place,  passing  through 
a  throng  of  which  even  the  French  contingent  looked 
on  the  spectacle  with  indignation.  So  greatly  were 
they  wrought  up,  indeed,  by  the  outrage,  that  Bob- 
ert,  Earl  of  Flanders,  Charles's  son-in-law,  drew  his 
sword,  and  cut  down  the  officer  commissioned  to  read 
in  public  the  sentence  of  death. 

"Wretch!"  he  cried,  as  he  dealt  the  blow,  "how 
darest  thou  condemn  such  a  great  and  excellent 
knight  ?" 

Conradin  met  his  fate  with  unyielding  courage, 
saying,  in  his  address  to  the  people, — 

"I  cite  my  judge  before  the  highest  tribunal. 
My  blood,  shed  on  this  spot,  shall  cry  to  heaven  for 
vengeance.  Nor  do  I  esteem  my  Swabians  and  Ba- 
varians, my  Germans,  so  low  as  not  to  trust  that 
this  stain  on  the  honor  of  the  German  nation  will  be 
washed  out  by  them  in  French  blood." 

Then,  throwing  his  glove  to  the  ground,  he  charged 
him  who  should  raise  it  to  bear  it  to  Peter,  King 
of  Arragon,  to  whom,  as  his  nearest  relative,  he 
bequeathed  all  his  claims.  The  glove  was  raised  by 
Henry,  Truchsess  von  Waldberg,  who  found  in  it  the 
seal  ring  of  the  unfortunate  wearer.  Thenceforth  he 
bore  in  his  arms  the  three  black  lions  of  the  Stauffen. 


THE   FALL   OF   THE    GHIBELLINES.  133 

In  a  minute  more  the  fatal  axe  of  the  executioner 
descended,  and  the  head  of  the  last  heir  of  the  Ho 
henstauffens  rolled  upon  the  scaffold.  His  friend, 
Frederick,  followed  him  to  death,  nor  was  the  blood- 
thirsty Charles  satisfied  until  almost  every  Ghibel- 
line  in  his  hands  had  fallen  by  the  hand  of  the 
executioner. 

Enzio,  the  unfortunate  son  of  Frederick  who  was 
held  prisoner  by  the  Bolognese,  was  involved  in  the 
fate  of  his  unhappy  nephew.  On  learning  of  the 
arrival  of  Conradin  in  Italy  he  made  an  effort  to 
escape  from  prison,  which  would  have  been  successful 
but  for  an  unlucky  accident.  He  had  arranged  to 
conceal  himself  in  a  cask,  which  was  to  be  borne  out 
of  the  prison  by  his  friends,  but  by  an  unfortunate 
chance  one  of  his  long,  golden  locks  fell  out  of  the  air- 
hole which  had  been  made  in  the  side  of  the  cask, 
and  revealed  the  stratagem  to  his  keepers. 

During  his  earlier  imprisonment  Enzio  had  been 
allowed  some  alleviation,  his  friends  being  permitted 
to  visit  him  and  solace  him  in  his  seclusion  ;  but  after 
this  effort  to  escape  he  was  closely  confined,  some 
say,  in  an  iron  cage,  until  his  death  in  1272. 

Thus  ended  the  royal  race  of  the  Hohenstauffen, 
a  race  marked  by  unusual  personal  beauty,  rich 
poetical  genius,  and  brilliant  warlike  achievements; 
and  during  whose  period  of  power  the  mediaeval  age 
and  its  institutions  attained  their  highest  develop- 
ment. 

As  for  the  ruthless  Charles  of  Anjou,  he  retained 
Apulia,  but  lost  his  possessions  in  Sicily  through  an 
event  which  has  become  famous  as  the   "  Sicilian 
12 


134  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Vespers."  The  insolence  and  outrages  of  the  French 
had  so  exasperated  the  Sicilians  that,  on  the  night 
of  March  30,  1282,  a  general  insurrection  broke  out 
in  this  island,  the  French  being  everywhere  assassi- 
nated. Constance,  the  grand-daughter  of  their  old 
ruler,  and  Peter  of  Arragon,  her  husband,  were  pro- 
claimed their  sovereigns  by  the  Sicilians,  and  Charles, 
the  son  of  Charles  of  Anjou,  fell  into  their  hands. 

Constance  was  generous  to  the  captive  prince,  and 
on  hearing  him  remark  that  he  was  happy  to  die 
on  a  Friday,  the  day  on  which  Christ  suffered,  she 
replied, — 

"  For  love  of  him  who  suffered  on  this  day  I  will 
grant  thee  thy  life." 

He  was  afterwards  exchanged  for  Beatrice,  the 
daughter  of  the  unhappy  Helena,  whose  sons,  the 
last  princes  of  the  Hohenstauffen  race,  died  in  the 
prison  in  which  they  had  lived  since  infancy. 


THE   TRIBUNAL   OF  THE  HOLY 
VEHM. 

The  ideas  of  law  and  order  in  medieval  Germany- 
were  by  no  means  what  we  now  understand  by  those 
terms.  The  injustice  of  the  strong  and  the  suffering 
of  the  weak  were  the  rule ;  and  men  of  noble  lineage 
did  not  hesitate  to  turn  their  castles  into  dens  of 
thieves.  The  title  "  robber  baron,"  which  many  of 
them  bore,  sufficiently  indicates  their  mode  of  life, 
and  turbulence  and  outrage  prevailed  throughout 
the  land. 

But  wrong  did  not  nourish  with  complete  impunity; 
right  had  not  entirely  vanished ;  justice  still  held  its 
sword,  and  at  times  struck  swift  and  deadly  blows 
that  filled  with  terror  the  wrong-doer,  and  gave 
some  assurance  of  protection  to  those  too  weak  for 
self-defence.  It  was  no  unusual  circumstance  to 
behold,  perhaps  in  the  vicinity  of  some  baronial 
castle,  perhaps  near  some  town  or  manorial  resi- 
dence, a  group  of  peasants  gazing  upwards  with 
awed  but  triumphant  eyes  ;  the  spectacle  that  at- 
tracted their  attention  being  the  body  of  a  man 
hanging  from  the  limb  of  a  tree  above  their  heads. 

Such  might  have  been  supposed  to  be  some  act  of 
private  vengeance  or  bold  outrage,  but  the  exulting 

136 


136  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

lookers-on  knew  better.  For  they  recognized  the 
body,  perhaps  as  that  of  the  robber  baron  of  the 
neighboring  castle,  perhaps  that  of  some  other  bold 
defier  of  law  and  justice,  while  in  the  ground  below 
the  corpse  appeared  an  object  that  told  a  tale  of 
deep  meaning  to  their  experienced  eyes.  This  was 
a  knife,  thrust  to  the  hilt  in  the  earth.  As  they 
gazed  upon  it  they  muttered  the  mysterious  words, 
"  Yehm  gericht"  and  quickly  dispersed,  none  daring 
to  touch  the  corpse  or  disturb  the  significant  signal 
of  the  vengeance  of  the  executioners. 

But  as  they  walked  away  they  would  converse  in 
low  tones  of  a  dread  secret  tribunal,  which  held  its 
mysterious  meetings  in  remote  places,  caverns  of 
the  earth  or  the  depths  of  forests,  at  the  dread  hour 
of  midnight,  its  members  being  sworn  by  frightful 
oaths  to  utter  secrecy.  Before  these  dark  tribunals 
were  judged,  present  or  absent,  the  wrong-doers  of 
the  land,  and  the  sentence  of  the  secret  Yehm  once 
given,  there  was  no  longer  safety  for  the  condemned. 
The  agents  of  vengeance  would  be  put  upon  his 
track,  while  the  secret  of  his  death  sentence  was 
carefully  kept  from  his  ears.  The  end  was  sure  to 
be  a  sudden  seizure,  a  rope  to  the  nearest  tree,  a 
writhing  body,  the  signal  knife  of  the  executioners 
of  the  Yehm,  silence  and  mystery. 

Such  was  the  visible  outcome  of  the  workings  of 
this  dreaded  court,  of  whose  sessions  and  secrets  the 
common  people  of  the  land  had  exaggerated  con- 
ceptions, but  whose  sudden  and  silent  deeds  in  the 
interest  of  justice  went  far  to  repress  crime  in  that 
lawless  age.     We  have  seen  the  completion  of  the 


THE   TRIBUNAL   OF   THE   HOLY   VEHM.  137 

sentence,  let  us  attend  a  session  of  this  mysterious 
court. 

Seeking  the  Yehmic  tribunal,  we  do  not  find  our- 
selves in  a  midnight  forest,  nor  in  a  dimly-lighted 
cavern  or  mysterious  vault,  as  peasant  traditions 
would  tell  us,  but  in  the  hall  of  some  ancient  castle, 
or  on  a  hill-top,  under  the  shade  of  lime-trees,  and 
with  an  open  view  of  the  country  for  miles  around. 
Here,  on  the  seat  of  justice,  presides  the  graf  or 
count  of  the  district,  before  him  the  sword,  the  sym- 
bol of  supreme  justice,  its  handle  in  the  form  of  the 
cross,  while  beside  it  lies  the  Wyd,  or  cord,  the  sign 
of  his  power  of  life  or  death.  Around  him  are 
seated  the  Schoffen,  or  ministers  of  justice,  bare- 
headed and  without  weapons,  in  complete  silence, 
none  being  permitted  to  speak  except  when  called 
upon  in  the  due  course  of  proceedings. 

The  court  being  solemnly  opened,  the  person  cited 
to  appear  before  it  steps  forward,  unarmed  and 
accompanied  by  two  sureties,  if  he  has  any.  The 
complaint  against  him  is  stated  by  the  judge,  and 
he  is  called  upon  to  clear  himself  by  oath  taken  on 
the  cross  of  the  sword.  If  he  takes  it,  he  is  free. 
"He  shall  then,"  says  an  ancient  work,  "take  a 
farthing  piece,  throw  it  at  the  feet  of  the  court,  turn 
round  and  go  his  way.  Whoever  attacks  or  touches 
him,  has  then,  which  all  freemen  know,  broken  the 
king's  peace." 

This  was  the  ancient  custom,  but  in  later  times 

witnesses  were  examined,  and  the  proceedings  were 

more  in  conformity  with  those  of  modern  courts. 

If  sentence  of  death  was  passed,  the  criminal  was 

12* 


138  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

hanged  at  once  on  the  nearest  tree.  The  minor 
punishments  were  exile  and  fine.  If  the  defendant 
refused  to  appear,  after  being  three  times  cited,  the 
sentence  of  the  Yehm  was  pronounced  against  him, 
a  dreadful  sentence,  ending  in, — 

"  And  I  hereby  curse  his  flesh  and  his  blood ;  and 
may  his  body  never  receive  burial,  but  may  it  be 
borne  away  by  the  wind,  and  may  the  ravens  and 
crows,  and  wild  birds  of  prey,  consume  and  destroy 
him.  And  I  adjudge  his  neck  to  the  rope,  and  his 
body  to  be  devoured  by  the  birds  and  beasts  of  the 
air,  sea,  and  land ;  but  his  soul  I  commend  to  our 
dear  Lord  God,  if  He  will  receive  it." 

These  words  spoken,  the  judge  cast  forth  the  rope 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  court,  and  wrote  the  name 
of  the  condemned  in  the  book  of  blood,  calling  on 
the  princes  and  nobles  of  the  land,  and  all  the  in- 
habitants of  the  empire,  to  aid  in  fulfilling  this  sen- 
tence upon  the  criminal,  without  regard  to  relation- 
ship or  any  ties  of  kindred  or  affection  whatever. 

The  condemned  man  was  now  left  to  the  work  of 
the  ministers  of  justice,  the  Schoffen  of  the  court. 
Whoever  should  shelter  or  even  warn  him  was  him- 
self to  be  brought  before  the  tribunal.  The  members 
of  the  court  were  bound  by  a  terrible  oath,  to  be 
enforced  by  death,  not  to  reveal  the  sentence  of  the 
Holy  Yehm,  except  to  one  of  the  initiated,  and  not 
to  warn  the  culprit,  even  if  he  was  a  father  or  a 
brother.  Wherever  the  condemned  was  found, 
whether  in  a  house,  a  street,  the  high-road,  or  the 
forest,  he  was  seized  and  hanged  to  the  nearest  tree 
or  post,  if  the  seivants  of  the  court  could  lay  hands 


THE   TRIBUNAL   OP   THE   HOLY   VEHM.  139 

on  him.  As  a  sign  that  he  was  executed  by  the  Holy 
Yehm,  and  not  slain  by  robbers,  nothing  was  taken 
from  his  body,  and  the  knife  was  thrust  into  the 
ground  beneath  him.  We  may  further  say  that  any 
criminal  taken  in  the  act  by  the  Yehmic  officers  of 
justice  did  not  need  to  be  brought  before  the  court, 
but  might  be  hanged  on  the  spot,  with  the  ordinary 
indications  that  he  was  a  victim  to  the  secret  tri- 
bunal. 

A  citation  to  appear  before  the  Yehm  was  executed 
by  two  Schoffen,  who  bore  the  letter  of  the  presiding 
count  to  the  accused.  If  they  could  not  reach  him 
because  he  was  living  in  a  city  or  a  fortress  which 
they  could  not  safely  enter,  they  were  authorized 
to  execute  their  mission  otherwise.  They  might 
approach  the  castle  in  the  night,  stick  the  letter, 
enclosing  a  farthing  piece,  in  the  panel  of  the  castle 
gate,  cut  off  three  chips  from  the  gate  as  evidence 
to  the  count  that  they  had  fulfilled  their  mission, 
and  call  out  to  the  sentinel  on  leaving  that  they  had 
deposited  there  a  letter  for  his  lord.  If  the  accused 
had  no  regular  dwelling-place,  and  could  not  be  met, 
he  was  summoned  at  four  different  cross-roads,  where 
was  left  at  the  east,  west,  north,  and  south  points  a 
summons,  each  containing  the  significant  farthing 
coin. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  administration 
of  justice  in  Germany  was  confined  to  this  Yehmic 
court.  There  were  open  courts  of  justice  through- 
out the  land.  But  what  were  known  as  Freistuhls, 
or  free  courts,  were  confined  to  the  duchy  of  West- 
phalia.    Some  of  the  sessions  of  these  courts  were 


140  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

open,  some  closed,  the  Yehm  constituting  their  secret 
tribunal. 

Though  complaints  might  be  brought  and  persons 
cited  to  appear  from  every  part  of  Germany,  a  free 
court  could  only  be  held  on  Westphalian  ground,  on 
the  red  earth,  as  it  was  entitled.  Even  the  emperor 
could  not  establish  a  free  court  outside  of  Westphalia. 
When  the  Emperor  Wenceslas  tried  to  establish  one 
in  Bohemia,  the  counts  of  the  empire  decreed  that 
any  one  who  should  take  part  in  it  would  incur  the 
penalty  of  death.  The  members  of  these  courts  con- 
sisted of  Schofien,  nominated  by  the  graf,  or  pre- 
siding judge,  and  composed  of  ordinary  members  and 
the  Wissenden  or  Witan,  the  higher  membership. 
The  initiation  of  these  members  was  a  singular  and 
impressive  ceremony.  It  could  only  take  place  upon 
the  red  earth,  or  within  the  boundaries  of  Westphalia. 
Bareheaded  and  ungirt,  the  candidate  was  conducted 
before  the  tribunal,  and  strictly  questioned  as  to  his 
qualifications  to  membership.  He  must  be  free-born, 
of  Teutonic  ancestry,  and  clear  of  any  accusation  of 
crime. 

This  settled,  a  deep  and  solemn  oath  of  fidelity  was 
administered,  the  candidate  swearing  by  the  Holy 
Law  to  guard  the  secrets  of  the  Holy  Yehm  from 
wife  and  child,  father  and  mother,  sister  and  brother, 
fire  and  water,  every  creature  on  whom  rain  falls  or 
sun  shines,  everything  between  earth  and  heaven ; 
to  tell  to  the  tribunal  all  offences  known  to  him,  and 
not  to  be  deterred  therefrom  by  love  or  hate,  gold, 
silver,  or  precious  stones.  He  was  now  intrusted 
with  the  very  ancient  password  and  secret  grip  or 


THE   TRIBUNAL   OF   THE   HOLY   VEHM.  141 

other  sign  of  the  order,  by  which  the  members  could 
readily  recognize  each  other  wherever  meeting,  and 
was  warned  of  the  frightful  penalty  incurred  by 
those  who  should  reveal  the  secrets  of  the  Yehm. 
This  penalty  was  that  the  criminal  should  have  his 
eyes  bound  and  be  cast  upon  the  earth,  his  tongue 
torn  out  through  the  back  of  his  neck,  and  his  body 
hanged  seven  times  higher  than  ordinary  criminals. 
In  the  history  of  the  court  there  is  no  instance  known 
of  the  oath  of  initiation  being  broken.  For  further 
security  of  the  secrets  of  the  Yehm,  no  mercy  was 
given  to  strangers  found  within  the  limits  of  the 
court.     All  such  intruders  were  immediately  hung. 

The  number  of  the  Schoffen,  or  members  of  the 
free  courts,  was  very  great.  In  the  fourteenth 
century  it  exceeded  one  hundred  thousand.  Persons 
of  all  ranks  joined  them,  princes  desiring  their  min- 
isters, cities  their  magistrates,  to  apply  for  member- 
ship. The  emperor  was  the  supreme  presiding  offi- 
cer, and  under  him  his  deputy,  the  stadtholder  of 
the  duchy  of  Westphalia,  while  the  local  courts,  of 
which  there  were  one  or  more  in  each  district  of  the 
duchy,  were  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  grafs  or 
counts  of  their  districts. 

The  Yehm  could  consider  criminal  actions  of  the 
greatest  diversity,  cases  of  mere  slander  or  defama- 
tion of  character  being  sometimes  brought  before  it. 
Any  violation  of  the  ten  commandments  was  within 
its  jurisdiction.  It  particularly  devoted  itself  to 
secret  crimes,  such  as  magic,  witchcraft,  or  poisoning. 
Its  agents  of  justice  were  bound  to  make  constant 
circuits,  night  and  day,  with  the  privilege,  as  we 


142  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

have  said,  if  they  caught  a  thief  or  murderer  in  the 
act,  or  obtained  his  confession,  to  hang  him  at  once 
on  the  nearest  tree,  with  the  knife  as  signal  of  their 
commission. 

Of  the  origin  of  this  strange  court  we  have  no 
certain  knowledge.  Tradition  ascribes  it  to  Charle- 
magne, but  that  needs  confirmation.  It  seems  rather 
to  have  been  an  outgrowth  of  an  old  Saxon  system, 
which  also  left  its  marks  in  the  systems  of  justice  of 
Saxon  England,  where  existed  customs  not  unlike 
those  of  the  Holy  Yehm. 

Mighty  was  the  power  of  these  secret  courts,  and 
striking  the  traditions  to  which  they  have  given  rise, 
based  upon  their  alleged  nocturnal  assemblies,  their 
secret  signs  and  solemn  oaths,  then*  mysterious  cus- 
toms, and  the  implacable  persistency  with  which 
their  sentences  sought  the  criminal,  pursuing  him  for 
years,  and  in  whatever  corner  of  the  empire  he 
might  take  refuge,  while  there  were  none  to  call  its 
ministers  of  justice  to  account  for  their  acts  if  the 
terrible  knife  had  been  left  as  evidence  of  their 
authority. 

Such  an  association,  composed  of  thousands  of  men 
of  all  classes,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest, — for 
common  freemen,  mechanics,  and  citizens  shared  the 
honor  of  membership  with  knights  and  even  princes, 
— bound  together  by  a  band  of  inviolable  secrecy, 
and  its  edicts  carried  out  so  mysteriously  and  ruth- 
lessly, could  not  but  attain  to  a  terrible  power,  and 
produce  a  remarkable  effect  upon  the  imagination  of 
the  people.  "The  prince  or  knight  who  easily  es 
caped  the  judgment  of  the  imperial  court,  and  from 


THE   TRIBUNAL   OP   THE   HOLY   VEHM.  143 

behind  his  fortified  walls  defied  even  the  emperor 
himself,  trembled  when  in  the  silence  of  the  night  he 
heard  the  voices  of  the  Freisclioffen  at  the  gate  of 
his  castle,  and  when  the  free  count  summoned  him 
to  appear  at  the  ancient  malplatz,  or  plain,  under  the 
lime-tree,  or  on  the  bank  of  a  rivulet  upon  that 
dreaded  soil,  the  Westphalian  or  red  ground.  And 
that  the  power  of  those  free  courts  was  not  exag- 
gerated by  the  mere  imagination,  excited  by  terror, 
nor  in  reality  by  any  means  insignificant,  is  proved 
by  a  hundred  undeniable  examples,  supported  by 
records  and  testimonies,  that  numerous  princes, 
counts,  knights,  and  wealthy  citizens  were  seized  by 
these  Schoffen  of  the  secret  tribunal,  and,  in  execu- 
tion of  its  sentence,  perished  by  their  hands." 

An  institution  so  mysterious  and  wide-spread  as 
this  could  not  exist  without  some  degree  of  abuse  of 
power.  Unworthy  persons  would  attain  member- 
ship, who  would  use  their  authority  for  the  pur- 
pose of  private  vengeance.  This  occasional  injustice 
of  the  Yehmic  tribunal  became  more  frequent  as 
time  went  on,  and  by  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury many  complaints  arose  against  the  free  courts, 
particularly  among  the  clergy.  Civilization  was  in- 
creasing, and  political  institutions  becoming  more 
developed,  in  Germany;  the  lords  of  the  land  grew 
restive  under  the  subjection  of  their  people  to  the 
acts  of  a  secret  and  strange  tribunal,  no  longer 
supported  by  imperial  power.  Alliances  of  princes, 
nobles,  and  citizens  were  made  against  the  Westpha- 
lian courts,  and  their  power  finally  ceased,  without 
any  formal  decree  of  abrogation. 


144  .  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

In  the  sixteenth  century  the  Yehm  still  possessed 
much  strength;  in  the  seventeenth  it  had  grown 
much  weaker ;  in  the  eighteenth  only  a  few  traces  of 
it  remained ;  at  Gehmen,  in  Minister,  the  secret  tri- 
bunal was  only  finally  extinguished  by  a  decree  of  the 
French  legislature  in  1811.  Even  to  the  present  day 
there  are  peasants  who  have  taken  the  oath  of  the 
Schoffen,  whose  secrecy  they  persistently  maintain, 
and  who  meet  annually  at  the  site  of  some  of  the  old 
free  courts.  The  principal  signs  of  the  order  are 
indicated  by  the  letters  S.  S.  G-.  G.,  signifying  stock, 
stein,  gras,  grein  (stick,  stone,  grass,  tears),  though 
no  one  has  been  able  to  trace  the  mysterious  mean- 
ing these  words  convey  as  symbols  of  the  mystn 
power  of  the  ancient  Vehm  gericht. 


WILLIAM  TELL  AND   THE 
SWISS  PATRIOTS. 

"  In  the  year  of  our  Lord  1307,"  writes  an  ancient 
chronicler,  "  there  dwelt  a  pious  countryman  in  TJn- 
terwald  beyond  the  Kernwald,  whose  name  was 
Henry  of  Melchthal,  a  wise,  prudent,  honest  man, 
well  to  do  and  in  good  esteem  among  his  country- 
folk, moreover,  a  firm  supporter  of  the  liberties  of 
his  country  and  of  its  adhesion  to  the  Holy  Eoman 
Empire,  on  which  account  Beringer  von  Landenberg, 
the  governor  over  the  whole  of  Unterwald,  was  his 
enemy.  This  Melchthaler  had  some  very  fine  oxen, 
and  on  account  of  some  trifling  misdemeanor  com- 
mitted by  his  son,  Arnold  of  Melchthal,  the  governor 
sent  his  servant  to  seize  the  finest  pair  of  oxen  by 
way  of  punishment,  and  in  case  old  Henry  of  Melch- 
thal said  anything  against  it,  he  was  to  say  that  it 
was  the  governor's  opinion  that  the  peasants  should 
draw  the  plough  themselves.  The  servant  fulfilled 
his  lord's  commands.  But  as  he  unharnessed  the 
oxen,  Arnold,  the  son  of  the  countryman,  fell  into  a 
rage,  and  striking  him  with  a  stick  on  the  hand, 
broke  one  of  his  fingers.  Upon  this  Arnold  fled,  for 
fear  of  his  life,  up  the  country  towards  Uri,  where 
he  kept  himself  long  secret  in  the  country  whoro 
IV.— Q        k  13  145 


146  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Conrad  of  Baumgarten  from  Altzelen  lay  hid  for 
having  killed  the  governor  of  Wolfenschiess,  who 
had  insulted  his  wife,  with  a  blow  of  his  axe.  The 
servant,  meanwhile,  complained  to  his  lord,  by  whos« 
order  old  Melchthal's  eyes  were  torn  out.  This  ty- 
rannical action  rendered  the  governor  highly  unpop- 
ular, and  Arnold,  on  learning  how  his  good  father 
had  been  treated,  laid  his  wrongs  secretly  before 
trusty  people  in  Uri,  and  awaited  a  fit  opportunity 
for  avenging  his  father's  misfortune." 

Such  was  the  prologue  to  the  tragic  events  which 
we  have  now  to  tell,  events  whose  outcome  was  the 
freedom  of  Switzerland  and  the  formation  of  that 
vigorous  Swiss  confederacy  which  has  maintained 
itself  until  the  present  day  in  the  midst  of  the 
powerful  and  warlike  nations  which  have  surrounded 
it.  The  prologue  given,  we  must  proceed  with  the 
main  scenes  of  the  drama,  which  quickly  followed. 

As  the  story  goes,  Arnold  allied  himself  with  two 
other  patriots,  Werner  Stauffacher  and  Walter  Fiirst, 
bold  and  earnest  men,  the  three  meeting  regularly 
at  night  to  talk  over  the  wrongs  of  their  country 
and  consider  how  best  to  right  them.  Of  the  first 
named  of  these  men  we  are  told  that  he  was  stirred 
to  rebellion  by  the  tyranny  of  Gessler,  governor  of 
Uri,  a  man  who  forms  one  of  the  leading  characters 
of  our  drama.  The  rule  of  Gessler  extended  over 
the  country  of  Schwyz,  where  in  the  town  of  Steinen, 
in  a  handsome  house,  lived  Werner  Stauffacher.  As 
the  governor  passed  one  day  through  this  town  he 
was  pleasantly  greeted  by  Werner,  who  was  standing 
before  his  door. 


WILLIAM   TELL   AND   THE    SWISS   PATRIOTS.        147 

"  To  whom  does  this  house  belong  ?"  asked  Gessler. 

Werner,  fearing  that  some  evil  purpose  lay  behind 
this  question,  cautiously  replied, — 

11  My  lord,  the  house  belongs  to  my  sovereign  lord 
the  king,  and  is  your  and  my  fief." 

"  I  will  not  allow  peasants  to  build  houses  without 
my  consent,"  returned  Gessler,  angered  at  this  shrewd 
reply,  "  or  to  live  in  freedom  as  if  they  were  their 
own  masters.  I  will  teach  you  better  than  to  resist 
my  authority." 

So  saying,  he  rode  on,  leaving  "Werner  greatly  dis- 
turbed by  his  threatening  words.  He  returned  into 
his  house  with  heavy  brow  and  such  evidence  of 
discomposure  that  his  wife  eagerly  questioned  him. 
Learning  what  the  governor  had  said,  the  good  lady 
shared  his  disturbance,  and  said, — 

"  My  dear  Werner,  you  know  that  many  of  the 
country-folk  complain  of  the  governor's  tyranny. 
In  my  opinion,  it  would  be  well  for  some  of  you, 
who  can  trust  one  another,  to  meet  in  secret,  and 
take  counsel  how  to  throw  off  his  wanton  power." 

This  advice  seemed  so  judicious  to  Werner  that 
he  sought  his  friend  Walter  Fiirst,  and  arranged 
with  him  and  Arnold  that  they  should  meet  and 
consider  what  steps  to  take,  their  place  of  meeting 
being  at  Kiitli,  a  small  meadow  in  a  lonely  situation, 
closed  in  on  the  land  side  by  high  rocks,  and  open- 
ing on  the  Lake  of  Lucerne.  Others  joined  them 
in  their  patriotic  purpose,  and  on  the  night  of  the 
Wednesday  before  Martinmas,  in  the  year  1307,  each 
of  the  three  led  to  the  place  of  meeting  ten  others, 
all   as    resolute    and   liberty-loving   as   themselves. 


148  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

These  thirty-three  good  and  true  men,  thus  assem- 
bled at  the  midnight  hour  in  the  meadow  of  Eiitli, 
united  in  a  solemn  oath  that  they  would  devote  their 
lives  and  strength  to  the  freeing  of  their  country 
from  its  oppressors.  They  fixed  the  first  day  of  the 
coming  year  for  the  beginning  of  their  work,  and 
then  returned  to  their  homes,  where  they  kept  the 
strictest  secrecy,  occupying  themselves  in  housing 
their  cattle  for  the  winter  and  in  other  rural  labors, 
with  no  indication  that  they  cherished  deeper  de 
signs. 

During  this  interval  of  secrecy  another  event,  of 
a  nature  highly  exasperating  to  the  Swiss,  is  said  to 
have  happened.  It  is  true  that  modern  critics  de- 
clare the  story  of  this  event  to  be  solely  a  legend, 
and  that  nothing  of  the  kind  ever  took  place.  How- 
ever that  be,  it  has  ever  since  remained  one  of  the 
most  attractive  of  popular  tales,  and  the  verdict  of 
the  critics  shall  not  deter  us  from  telling  again  this 
oft-repeated  and  always  welcome  story. 

"We  have  named  two  of  the  many  tyrannical 
governors  of  Switzerland,  the  deputies  there  of 
Albert  of  Austria,  then  Emperor  of  Germany,  whose 
purpose  was  to  abolish  the  privileges  of  the  Swiss 
and  subject  the  free  communes  to  his  arbitrary  rule. 
The  second  named  of  these,  Gessler,  governor  of 
Uri  and  Schwyz,  whose  threats  had  driven  Werner 
to  conspiracy,  occupied  a  fortress  in  Uri,  which  he 
had  built  as  a  place  of  safety  in  case  of  revolt,  and 
a  centre  of  tyranny.  "  Uri's  prison"  he  called  this 
fortress,  an  insult  to  the  people  of  Uri  which  roused 
their  indignation.  Perceiving  their  gallon r>oss,  Gessler 


WILLIAM   TELL   AND   THE   SWISS   PATRIOTS.        149 

resolved  to  give  them  a  salutary  lesson  of  his  power 
and  their  helplessness. 

On  St.  Jacob's  day  he  had  a  pole  erected  in  the 
market-place  at  Altdorf,  under  the  lime-trees  there 
growing,  and  directed  that  his  hat  should  be  placed 
on  its  top.  This  done,  the  command  was  issued  that 
all  who  passed  through  the  market-place  should 
bow  and  kneel  to  this  hat  as  to  the  king  himself, 
blows  and  confiscation  of  property  to  be  the  lot 
of  all  who  refused.  A  guard  was  placed  around 
the  pole,  whose  duty  was  to  take  note  of  every 
man  who  should  fail  to  do  homage  to  the  govern- 
or's hat. 

On  the  Sunday  following,  a  peasant  of  Uri,  Wil- 
liam Tell  by  name,  who,  as  we  are  told,  was  one  of 
the  thirty-three  sworn  confederates,  passed  several 
times  through  the  market-place  at  Altdorf  without 
bowing  or  bending  the  knee  to  Gessler's  hat.  This 
was  reported  to  the  governor,  who  summoned  Tell 
to  his  presence,  and  haughtily  asked  him  why  he 
had  dared  to  disobey  his  command. 

"  My  dear  lord,"  answered  Tell,  submissively,  "  I 
beg  you  to  pardon  me,  for  it  was  done  through  igno- 
rance and  not  out  of  contempt.  If  I  were  clever,  I 
should  not  be  called  Tell.  I  pray  your  mercy ;  it 
shall  not  happen  again." 

The  name  Tell  signifies  dull  or  stupid,  a  meaning 
in  consonance  with  his  speech,  though  not  with  his 
character.  Yet  stupid  or  bright,  he  had  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  the  best  archer  in  the  country,  and 
Gessler,  knowing  this,  determined  on  a  singular 
punishment  for  his  fault.  Tell  had  beautiful  children, 
13* 


150  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

whom  he  dearly  loved.     The  governor  sent  for  these, 
and  asked  him, — 

"  Which  of  your  children  do  you  love  the  best  ?" 

"  My  lord,  they  are  all  alike  dear  to  me,"  answered 
Tell.   * 

"  If  that  be  so,"  said  Gessler,  "  then,  as  I  hear  that 
you  are  a  famous  marksman,  you  shall  prove  your 
skill  in  my  presence  by  shooting  an  apple  off  the 
head  of  one  of  your  children.  But  take  good  care 
to  hit  the  apple,  for  if  your  first  shot  miss  you  shall 
lose  your  life." 

"  For  God's  sake,  do  not  ask  me  to  do  this  !"  cried 
Tell  in  horror.  "  It  would  be  unnatural  to  shoot  at 
my  own  dear  child.     I  would  rather  die  than  do  it." 

"  Unless  you  do  it,  you  or  your  child  shall  die," 
answered  the  governor  harshly. 

Tell,  seeing  that  Gessler  was  resolute  in  his  cruel 
project,  and  that  the  trial  must  be  made  or  worse 
might  come,  reluctantly  agreed  to  it.  He  took  his 
cross-bow  and  two  arrows,  one  of  which  he  placed  in 
the  bow,  the  other  he  stuck  behind  in  his  collar. 
The  governor,  meanwhile,  had  selected  the  child  for 
the  trial,  a  boy  of  not  more  than  six  years  of  age, 
whom  he  ordered  to  be  placed  at  the  proper  distance, 
and  himself  selected  an  apple  and  placed  it  on  the 
child's  head. 

Tell  viewed  these  preparations  with  startled  eyes, 
while  praying  inwardly  to  God  to  shield  his  dear 
child  from  harm.  Then,  bidding  the  boy  to  stand 
firm  and  not  be  frightened,  as  his  father  would  do 
his  best  not  to  harm  him,  he  raised  the  perilous  bow. 

The  legend  deals  too  briefly  with  this  story.     It 


STATUE  OF  WILLIAM  TELL. 


WILLIAM   TELL   AND   THE   SWISS   PATRIOTS.       151 

f*i»  to  picture  the  scene  in  the  market-place.  But 
thei-,  we  may  be  sure,  in  addition  to  Gessler  and  his 
guaids,  were  most  of  the  people  of  Uri,  their  hearts 
burning  with  sympathy  for  their  countryman  and 
hatred  of  the  tyrant,  their  feelings  almost  wrought 
up  to  the  point  of  attacking  Gessler  and  his  guards, 
and  daring  death  in  defence  of  their  liberties.  There 
also  we  may  behold  in  fancy  the  brave  child,  scarcely 
old  enough  to  appreciate  the  magnitude  of  his  peril, 
but  looking  with  simple  faith  into  the  kind  eyes  of 
his  father,  who  stands  firm  of  frame  but  trembling  in 
heart  before  him,  the  death-dealing  bow  in  his  hand. 

In  a  minute  more  the  bow  is  bent,  Tell's  unerring 
eye  glances  along  the  shaft,  the  string  twangs  sharply, 
the  arrow  speeds  through  the  air,  and  the  apple, 
pierced  through  its  centre,  is  borne  from  the  head 
of  the  boy,  who  leaps  forward  with  a  glad  cry  of 
triumph,  while  the  unnerved  father,  with  tears  of 
joy  in  his  eyes,  flings  the  bow  to  the  ground  and 
clasps  his  child  to  his  heart. 

"  By  my  faith,  Tell,  that  is  a  wonderful  shot !" 
cried  the  astonished  governor.  "Men  have  not 
belied  you.  But  why  have  you  stuck  another 
arrow  in  your  collar  ?" 

"  That  is  the  custom  among  marksmen,"  Tell 
hesitatingly  answered. 

"  Come,  man,  speak  the  truth  openly  and  without 
fear,"  said  Gessler,  who  noted  Tell's  hesitancy. 
11  Tour  life  is  safe ;  but  I  am  not  satisfied  with  your 
answer." 

"  Then,"  said  Tell,  regaining  his  courage,  "  if  you 
would  have  the  truth,  it  is  this.     If  I  had  struck  my 


152  HISTORICAL  TALES. 

child  with  the  first  arrow,  the  other  was  intended  for 
you;  and  with  that  I  should  not  have  missed  my 
mark." 

The  governor  started  at  these  bold  words,  and  his 
brow  clouded  with  anger. 

tt  I  promised  you  your  life,"  he  exclaimed,  "  and 
will  keep  my  word  ;  but,  as  you  cherish  evil  intentions 
against  me,  I  shall  make  sure  that  you  cannot  carry 
them  out.  You  are  not  safe  to  leave  at  large,  and 
shall  be  taken  to  a  place  where  you  can  never  again 
behold  the  sun  or  the  moon." 

Turning  to  his  guards,  he  bade  them  seize  the  bold 
marksman,  bind  his  hands,  and  take  him  in  a  boat 
across  the  lake  to  his  castle  at  Kiissnach,  where  he 
should  do  penance  for  his  evil  intentions  by  spending 
the  remainder  of  his  life  in  a  dark  dungeon.  The 
people  dared  not  interfere  with  this  harsh  sentence  ; 
the  guards  were  too  many  and  too  well  armed.  Tell 
was  seized,  bound,  and  hurried  to  the  lake-side,  Gessler 
accompanying. 

The  water  reached,  he  was  placed  in  a  boat,  his 
cross-bow  being  also  brought  and  laid  beside  the 
steersman.  As  if  with  purpose  to  make  sure  of  the 
disposal  of  his  threatening  enemy,  Gessler  also 
entered  the  boat,  which  was  pushed  off  and  rowed 
across  the  lake  towards  Brunnen,  from  which  place 
the  prisoner  was  to  be  taken  overland  to  the  gov- 
ernor's fortress. 

Before  they  were  half-way  across  the  lake,  how- 
ever, a  sudden  and  violent  storm  arose,  tossing  the 
boat  so  frightfully  that  Gessler  and  all  with  him  were 
filled  with  mortal  fear. 


ILLIAM    TELL   AND   THE   SWISS   PATRIOTS.        153 

"  My  lord,"  cried  one  of  the  trembling  rowers  to 
the  governor,  «  we  will  all  go  to  the  bottom  unless 
something  is  done,  for  there  is  not  a  man  among  us 
fit  to  manage  a  boat  in  this  storm.  But  Tell  here  is 
a  skilful  boatman,  and  it  would  be  wise  to  use  him  in 
our  sore  need." 

"  Can  you  bring  us  out  of  this  peril  ?"  asked  Gessler, 
who  was  no  less  alarmed  than  his  crew.  "  If  you 
can,  I  will  release  you  from  your  bonds." 

"  I  trust,  with  God's  help,  that  I  can  safely  bring 
you  ashore,"  answered  Tell. 

By  Gessler's  order  his  bonds  were  then  removed, 
and  he  stepped  aft  and  took  the  helm,  guiding  the 
boat  through  the  storm  with  the  skill  of  a  trained 
mariner.  He  had,  however,  another  object  in  view, 
and  had  no  intention  to  let  the  tyrannical  governor 
bind  his  free  limbs  again.  He  bade  the  men  to  row 
carefully  until  they  reached  a  certain  rock,  which 
appeared  on  the  lake-side  at  no  great  distance,  telling 
them  that  he  hoped  to  land  them  behind  its  shelter. 
As  they  drew  near  the  spot  indicated,  he  turned  the 
helm  so  that  the  boat  struck  violently  against  the 
rock,  and  then,  seizing  the  cross-bow  which  lay  beside 
him,  he  sprang  nimbly  ashore,  and  thrust  the  boat 
with  his  foot  back  into  the  tossing  waves.  The  rock 
on  which  he  landed  is,  says  the  chronicler,  still  known 
as  Tell's  Rock,  and  a  small  chapel  has  been  built  upon 
it. 

The  story  goes  on  to  tell  us  that  the  governor  and 
his  rowers,  after  great  danger,  finally  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  shore  at  Brunnen,  at  which  point  they 
took  horse  and  rode  through  the  district  of  Schwyz, 


154  HISTORICAL   TALES, 

their  route  leading  through  a  narrow  passage  between 
the  rocks,  the  only  way  by  which  they  could  reach 
Iviissnach  from  that  quarter.  On  they  went,  the 
angry  governor  swearing  vengeance  against  Tell,  and 
laying  plans  with  his  followers  how  the  runaway 
should  be  seized.  The  deepest  dungeon  at  Ktissnach, 
he  vowed,  should  be  his  lot. 

He  little  dreamed  what  ears  heard  his  fulmina- 
tions  and  what  deadly  peril  threatened  him.  On 
leaving  the  boat,  Tell  had  run  quickly  forward  to  the 
passage,  or  hollow  way,  through  which  he  knew  that 
Gessler  must  pass  on  his  way  to  the  castle.  Here, 
hidden  behind  the  high  bank  that  bordered  the  road, 
he  waited,  cross-bow  in  hand,  and  the  arrow  which 
he  had  designed  for  the  governor's  life  in  the  string, 
for  the  coming  of  his  mortal  foe. 

Gessler  came,  still  talking  of  his  plans  to  seize  Tell, 
and  without  a  dream  of  danger,  for  the  pass  was 
silent  and  seemed  deserted.  But  suddenly  to  his  ears 
came  the  twang  of  the  bow  he  had  heard  before  that 
day ;  through  the  air  once  more  winged  its  way  a 
steel-barbed  shaft,  the  heart  of  a  tyrant,  not  an  apple 
on  a  child's  head,  now  its  mark.  In  an  instant  more 
Gessler  fell  from  his  horse,  pierced  by  Tell's  fatal 
shaft,  and  breathed  his  last  before  the  eyes  of  his 
terrified  servants.  On  that  spot,  the  chronicler  con- 
cludes, was  built  a  holy  chapel,  which  is  standing  to 
this  day. 

Such  is  the  far-famed  story  of  William  Tell.  How 
much  truth  and  how  much  mere  tradition  there  is  in 
it,  it  is  not  easy  to  say.  The  feat  of  shooting  an 
apple  from  a  person's  head  is  told  of  others  before 


WILLIAM   TELL   AND   THE    SWISS   PATRIOTS.        155 

Tell's  time,  and  that  it  ever  happened  is  far  from 
sure.  But  at  the  same  time  it  is  possible  that  the 
story  of  Tell,  in  its  main  features,  may  be  founded 
on  fact.     Tradition  is  rarely  all  fable. 

We  are  now  done  with  William  Tell,  and  must 
return  to  the  doings  of  the  three  confederates  to 
whom  fame  ascribes  the  origin  of  the  liberty  of 
Switzerland.  In  the  early  morning  of  January  1, 
1308,  the  date  they  had  fixed  for  their  work  to  be- 
gin, as  Landenberg  was  leaving  his  castle  to  attend 
mass  at  Sarnen,  he  was  met  by  twenty  of  the  moun- 
taineers of  Unterwald,  who,  as  was  their  custom, 
brought  him  a  new-year's  gift  of  calves,  goats,  sheep, 
fowls,  and  hares.  Much  pleased  with  the  present,  he 
asked  the  men  to  take  the  animals  into  the  castle 
court,  and  went  on  his  way  towards  Sarnen. 

But  no  sooner  had  the  twenty  men  passed  through 
the  gates  than  a  horn  was  loudly  blown,  and  instantly 
each  of  them  drew  from  beneath  his  doublet  a  steel 
blade,  which  he  fixed  upon  the  end  of  his  staff.  At 
the  sound  of  the  horn  thirty  other  men  rushed  from 
a  neighboring  wood,  and  made  for  the  open  gates. 
In  a  very  few  minutes  they  joined  their  comrades  in 
the  castle,  which  was  quickly  theirs,  the  garrison 
being  overpowered. 

Landenberg  fled  in  haste  on  hearing  the  tumult, 
but  was  pursued  and  taken.  But  as  the  confederates 
had  agreed  with  each  other  to  shed  no  blood,  they 
suffered  this  archvillain  to  depart,  after  making  him 
swear  to  leave  Switzerland  and  never  return  to  it. 
The  news  of  the  revolt  spread  rapidly  through  the 
mountains,  and   so  well  had  the  confederates  laid 


156  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

their  plans,  that  several  other  castles  were  taken  by 
stratagem  before  the  alarm  could  be  given.  Their 
governors  were  sent  beyond  the  borders.  Day  by 
day  news  was  brought  to  the  head-quarters  of  th« 
patriots,  on  Lake  Lucerne,  of  success  in  various  parts 
of  the  country,  and  on  Sunday,  the  7th  of  January, 
a  week  from  the  first  outbreak,  the  leading  men  of 
that  part  of  Switzerland  met  and  pledged  themselves 
to  their  ancient  oath  of  confederacy.  In  a  week's 
time  they  had  driven  out  the  Austrians  and  set  their 
country  free. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  there  is  no  contemporary 
proof  of  this  story,  though  the  Swiss  accept  it  as 
authentic  history,  and  it  has  not  been  disproved. 
The  chief  peril  to  the  new  confederacy  lay  with 
Albert  of  Austria,  the  dispossessed  lord  of  the  land, 
but  the  patriotic  Swiss  found  themselves  unex- 
pectedly relieved  from  the  execution  of  his  threats  of 
vengeance.  His  harshness  and  despotic  severity  had 
made  him  enemies  alike  among  people  and  nobles, 
and  when,  in  the  spring  of  1308,  he  sought  the  borders 
of  Switzerland,  with  the  purpose  of  reducing  and 
punishing  the  insurgents,  his  career  was  brought  to 
a  sudden  and  violent  end. 

A  conspiracy  had  been  formed  against  him  by  his 
nephew,  the  Duke  of  Swabia,  and  others  who  ac- 
companied him  in  this  journey.  On  the  1st  of  May 
they  reached  the  Eeuss  Eiver  at  Windisch,  and,  as 
the  emperor  entered  the  boat  to  be  ferried  across, 
the  conspirators  pushed  into  it  after  him,  leaving 
no  room  for  his  attendants.  Reaching  the  opposite 
shore,  they  remounted  their  steeds   and  rode  on 


WILLIAM   TELL   AND   THE   SWISS   PATRIOTS.        157 

while  the  boat  returned  for  the  others.  Their  route 
lay  through  the  vast  cornfields  at  the  base  of  the 
hills  whose  highest  summit  was  crowned  by  the  great 
castle  of  Hapsburg. 

They  had  gone  some  distance,  when  John  of  Swabia 
suddenly  rushed  upon  the  emperor,  and  buried  his 
lance  in  his  neck,  exclaiming,  "  Such  is  the  reward  of 
injustice I"  Immediately  two  others  rode  upon  him, 
Kudolph  of  Balm  stabbing  him  with  his  dagger, 
while  Walter  of  Eschenbach  clove  his  head  in  twain 
with  his  sword.  This  bloody  work  done,  the  con- 
spirators spurred  rapidly  away,  leaving  the  dying 
emperor  to  breathe  his  last  with  his  head  supported 
in  the  lap  of  a  poor  woman,  who  had  witnessed  the 
murder  and  hurried  to  the  spot. 

This  deed  of  blood  saved  Switzerland  from  the 
vengeance  which  the  emperor  had  designed.  The 
mountaineers  were  given  time  to  cement  the  govern- 
ment they  had  so  hastily  formed,  and  which  was  to 
last  for  centuries  thereafter,  despite  the  efforts  of 
ambitious  potentates  to  reduce  the  Swiss  once  more 
to  subjection  and  rob  them  of  the  liberty  they  so 
dearly  loved, 


THE  BLACK  DEATH  AND    THE 
FLAGELLANTS. 

The  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century  was  a 
period  of  extraordinary  terror  and  disaster  to  Eu- 
rope. Numerous  portents,  which  sadly  frightened 
the  people,  were  followed  by  a  pestilence  which 
threatened  to  turn  the  continent  into  an  unpeopled 
wilderness.  For  year  after  year  there  were  signs  in 
the  sky,  on  the  earth,  in  the  air,  all  indicative,  as 
men  thought,  of  some  terrible  coming  event.  In 
1337  a  great  comet  appeared  in  the  heavens,  its  far- 
extending  tail  sowing  deep  dread  in  the  minds  of 
the  ignorant  masses.  During  the  three  succeeding 
years  the  land  was  visited  by  enormous  flying 
armies  of  locusts,  which  descended  in  myriads  upon 
the  fields,  and  left  the  shadow  of  famine  in  their 
track.  In  1348  came  an  earthquake  of  such  fright- 
ful violence  that  many  men  deemed  the  end  of  the 
world  to  be  presaged.  Its  devastations  were  widely 
spread.  Cyprus,  Greece,  and  Italy  were  terribly 
visited,  and  it  extended  through  the  Alpine  valleys 
as  far  as  Basle.  Mountains  sank  into  the  earth.  In 
Carinthia  thirty  villages  f*nd  the  tower  of  Villach 
were  ruined.  The  air  grew  thick  and  stifling.  There 
were  dense  and  frightful  fogs.  Wine  fermented  in 
the  casks.  Fiery  meteors  appeared  in  the  skies. 
168 


THE  BLACK  DEATH  AND  THE  FLAGELLANTS.   159 

A  gigantic  pillar  of  flame  was  seen  by  hundreds 
descending  upon  the  roof  of  the  pope's  palace  at 
Avignon.  In  1356  came  another  earthquake,  which 
destroyed  almost  the  whole  of  Basle.  What  with 
famine,  flood,  fog,  locust  swarms,  earthquakes,  and 
the  like,  it  is  not  surprising  that  many  men  deemed 
the  cup  of  the  world's  sins  to  be  full,  and  the  end  of 
the  kingdom  of  man  to  be  at  hand. 

An  event  followed  that  seemed  to  confirm  this 
belief.  A  pestilence  broke  out  of  such  frightful  viru- 
lence that  it  appeared  indeed  as  if  man  was  to  be 
swept  from  the  earth.  Men  died  in  hundreds,  in 
thousands,  in  myriads,  until  in  places  there  were 
scarcely  enough  living  to  bury  the  dead,  and  these 
so  maddened  with  fright  that  dwellings,  villages, 
towns,  were  deserted  by  all  who  were  able  to  fly,  the 
dying  and  dead  being  left  their  sole  inhabitants. 
It  was  the  pestilence  called  the  "  Black  Death,"  the 
most  terrible  visitation  that  Europe  has  ever  known. 

This  deadly  disease  came  from  Asia.  It  is  said  to 
have  originated  in  China,  spreading  over  the  great 
continent  westwardly,  and  descending  in  all  its  de- 
structive virulence  upon  Europe,  which  continent  it 
swept  as  with  the  besom  of  destruction.  The  disease 
appears  to  have  been  a  very  malignant  type  of  what 
is  known  as  the  plague,  a  form  of  pestilence  which  has 
several  times  returned,  though  never  with  such  viru- 
lence as  on  that  occasion.  It  began  with  great  lassi- 
tude of  the  body,  and  rapid  swellings  of  the  glands  of 
the  groin  and  armpits,  which  soon  became  large  boils. 
Then  followed,  as  a  fatal  symptom,  large  black  or 
deep-blue  spots  over  the  body,  from  which  came  the 


160  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

name  of  "  Black  Death."  Some  of  the  victims  became 
sleepy  and  stupid ;  others  were  incessantly  restless. 
The  tongue  and  throat  grew  black ;  the  lungs  exhaled 
a  noisome  odor ;  an  insatiable  thirst  was  produced. 
Death  came  in  two  or  three  days,  sometimes  on  the 
very  day  of  seizure.  Medical  aid  was  of  no  avail. 
Doctors  and  relatives  fled  in  terror  from  what  they 
deemed  a  fatally  contagious  disease,  and  the  stricken 
were  left  to  die  alone.  Tillages  and  towns  were  in 
many  places  utterly  deserted,  no  living  things  being 
left,  for  the  disease  was  as  fatal  to  dogs,  cats,  and 
swine  as  to  men.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that 
this,  and  other  less  destructive  visitations  of  plague, 
were  due  to  the  action  of  some  of  those  bacterial 
organisms  which  are  now  known  to  have  so  much 
to  do  with  infectious  diseases.  This  particular  pesti- 
lence-breeder seems  to  have  flourished  in  filth,  and 
the  streets  of  the  cities  of  Europe  of  that  day  formed 
a  richly  fertile  soil  for  its  growth.  Men  prayed  to 
God  for  relief,  instead  of  cleaning  their  highways  and 
by-ways,  and  relief  came  not.  In  modern  times  men 
have  begun  to  pray  less  and  purify  more,  and  the 
plague  has  ceased  its  ravages,  muzzled  by  sanitation. 
Such  was  its  character,  what  were  its  ravages? 
Never  before  or  since  has  a  pestilence  brought  such 
desolation.  Men  died  by  millions.  At  Basle  it  found 
fourteen  thousand  victims ;  at  Strasburg  and  Erfurt, 
sixteen  thousand ;  in  the  other  cities  of  Germany  it 
flourished  in  like  proportion.  In  Osnabriick  only 
seven  married  couples  remained  unseparated  by 
death.  Of  the  Franciscan  Minorites  of  Germany,  a 
body  among  whom  the  stricter   ecclesiastics  took 


THE   BLACK   DEATH   AND   THE   FLAGELLANTS.       161 

refuge  from  the  loose  habits  of  the  rest  of  the  priest- 
hood, one  hundred  and  twenty-five  thousand  died. 

Outside  of  Germany  the  fury  of  the  pestilence 
was  still  worse;  from  east  to  west,  from  north  to 
south,  Europe  was  desolated.  The  mortality  in  Asia 
was  fearful.  In  China  there  are  said  to  have  been 
thirteen  million  victims  to  the  scourge ;  in  the  rest 
of  Asia  twenty-four  millions.  The  extreme  west 
was  no  less  frightfully  visited.  London  lost  one 
hundred  thousand  of  its  population ;  in  all  England 
a  number  estimated  at  from  one-third  to  one-half  the 
entire  population  (then  probably  numbering  from 
three  to  five  millions)  were  swept  into  the  grave. 
If  we  take  Europe  as  a  whole,  it  is  believed  that 
fully  a  fourth  of  its  inhabitants  were  carried  away 
by  this  terrible  scourge.  For  two  years  the  pesti- 
lence raged,  1348  and  1349.  It  broke  out  again  in 
1361-62,  and  once  more  in  1369. 

The  mortality  caused  by  the  plague  was  only  one 
of  its  disturbing  consequences.  The  bonds  of  society 
were  loosened ;  natural  affection  seemed  to  vanish ; 
friend  deserted  friend,  mothers  even  fled  from  their 
children ;  demoralization  showed  itself  in  many  in- 
stances in  reckless  debauchery.  An  interesting  ex- 
ample remains  to  us  in  Boccaccio's  "Decameron," 
whose  stories  were  told  by  a  group  of  pleasure-lovers 
who  had  fled  from  plague-stricken  Florence. 

Religious  fanaticism  was  everywhere  aroused,  and 
led  to  frightful  excesses  of  persecution  against  the 
Jews,  who  were  accused  of  poisoning  the  wells. 
From  Berne,  where  the  city  councils  gave  orders  for 
the  massacre,  it  spread  over  the  whole  of  Switzerland 
it.— I  14* 


162  HISTORICAL  TALES. 

and  Germany,  many  thousands  being  murdered.  At 
Mayence  it  is  said  that  twelve  thousand  Jews  were 
massacred.  At  Strasburg  two  thousand  were  burned 
in  one  pile.  Even  the  orders  of  the  emperor  failed 
to  put  an  end  to  the  slaughter.  All  the  Jews  who 
could  took  refuge  in  Poland,  where  they  found  a 
protector  in  Casimir,  who,  like  a  second  Ahasuerus, 
extended  his  aid  to  them  from  love  for  Esther,  a 
beautiful  Jewess.  From  that  day  to  this  Poland  has 
swarmed  with  Jews. 

Of  the  beneficial  results  of  the  religious  excitement 
may  be  named  the  earnest  labors  of  the  order  of 
Beguines,  an  association  of  women  for  the  purpose 
of  attending  the  sick  and  dying,  which  had  long  been 
in  existence,  but  was  particularly  active  and  useful 
during  this  period.  "We  may  name  also  the  Beghards 
and  Lollards,  whose  extravagances  were  to  some 
extent  outgrowths  of  earnest  piety,  and  their  lives 
strongly  contrasted  with  the  levity  and  luxury  of  the 
higher  ecclesiastics.  These  societies  of  poor  and 
mendicant  penitents  were  greatly  increased  by  the 
religious  excitement  of  the  time,  which  also  gave 
special  vitality  to  another  sect,  the  Flagellants,  which, 
as  mentioned  in  a  former  article,  first  arose  in  1260, 
during  the  excesses  of  bloodshed  of  the  Guelphs  of 
northern  Italy,  and  thence  spread  over  Europe. 
After  a  period  of  decadence  they  broke  out  afresh  in 
1349,  as  a  consequence  of  the  deadly  pestilence. 

The  members  of  this  sect,  seeing  no  hope  of  relief 
from  human  action,  turned  to  God  as  their  only  refuge, 
and  deemed  it  necessaiy  to  propitiate  the  Deity  by 
extraordinary  sacrifices  and  self-tortureb.     The  flame 


THE   BLACK   DEATH   AND   THE   FLAGELLANTS.       163 

of  fanaticism,  once  started,  spread  rapidly  and  widely. 
Hundreds  of  men,  and  even  boys,  marched  in  com- 
panies through  the  roads  and  streets,  carrying  heavy 
torches,  scourging  their  naked  shoulders  with  knotted 
whips,  which  were  often  loaded  with  lead  or  iron, 
singing  penitential  hymns,  parading  in  bands  which 
bore  banners  and  were  distinguished  by  white  hats 
with  red  crosses. 

"Women  as  well  as  men  took  part  in  these  fanatical 
exercises,  marching  about  half-naked,  whipping  each 
other  frightfully,  flinging  themselves  on  the  earth  in 
the  most  public  places  of  the  towns  and  scourging 
their  bare  backs  and  shoulders  till  the  blood  flowed. 
Entering  the  churches,  they  would  prostrate  them- 
selves on  the  pavement,  with  their  arms  extended  in 
the  form  of  a  cross,  chanting  their  rude  hymns.  Of 
these  hymns  we  may  quote  the  following  example : 

11  Now  is  the  holy  pilgrimage. 
Christ  rode  into  Jerusalem, 
And  in  his  hand  he  bore  a  cross ; 
May  Christ  to  us  be  gracious. 
Our  pilgrimage  is  good  and  right. 

The  Flagellants  did  not  content  themselves  with 
these  public  manifestations  of  self-sacrifice.  Thej 
formed  a  regular  religious  order,  with  officers  and 
laws,  and  property  in  common.  At  night,  before 
sleeping,  each  indicated  to  his  brothers  by  gestures 
the  sins  which  weighed  most  heavily  on  his  conscience, 
not  a  word  being  spoken  until  absolution  was  granted 
by  one  of  them  in  the  following  form : 

"  For  their  dear  sakes  who  torture  bore, 
Rise,  brother,  go  and  sin  no  more." 


164  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Had  this  been  all  they  might  have  been  left  to 
their  own  devices,  but  they  went  farther.  The  day 
of  judgment,  they  declared,  was  at  hand.  A  letter 
had  been  addressed  from  Jerusalem  by  the  Creator 
to  his  sinning  creatures,  and  it  was  their  mission  to 
spread  this  through  Europe.  They  preached,  con- 
fessed, and  forgave  sins,  declared  that  the  blood  shed 
in  their  flagellations  had  a  share  with  the  blood  of 
Christ  in  atoning  for  sin,  that  their  penances  were  a 
substitute  for  the  sacraments  of  the  church,  and  that 
the  absolution  granted  by  the  clergy  was  of  no  avail. 
They  taught  that  all  men  were  brothers  and  equal  in 
the  sight  of  God,  and  upbraided  the  priests  for  their 
pride  and  luxury. 

These  doctrines  alarmed  the  pope,  Clement  VI., 
who  saw  in  them  the  possible  beginning  of  a  great 
reformation.  He  launched  against  the  enthusiasts  a 
bull  of  excommunication,  and  ordered  their  persecu- 
tion as  heretics.  This  course,  at  first,  roused  their 
enthusiasm  to  frenzy.  Some  of  them  even  pretended 
to  be  the  Messiah,  one  of  these  being  burnt  as  a 
heretic  at  Erfurt.  Gradually,  however,  as  the  plague 
died  away,  and  the  occasion  for  this  fanatical  out- 
burst vanished,  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Flagellants 
went  with  it,  and  they  sunk  from  sight.  In  1414  a 
troop  of  them  reappeared  in  Thuringia  and  Lower 
Saxony,  and  even  surpassed  their  predecessors  in 
wildness  of  extravagance.  With  the  dying  out  of 
this  manifestation  this  strange  mania  of  the  middle 
ages  vanished,  probably  checked  by  the  growing  in* 
telligence  of  mankind. 


THE  SWISS  AT  MORGARTEN. 

On  a  sunny  autumn  morning,  in  the  far-off  year 
1315,  a  gallant  band  of  horsemen  wound  slowly  up 
the  Swiss  mountains,  their  forest  of  spears  and  lances 
glittering  in  the  ruddy  beams  of  the  new-risen  sun, 
and  extending  down  the  hill-side  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach.  In  the  vanguard  rode  the  flower  of 
the  army,  a  noble  cavalcade  of  knights,  clad  in  com- 
plete armor,  and  including  nearly  the  whole  of  the 
ancient  nobility  of  Austria.  At  the  head  of  this 
group  rode  Duke  Leopold,  the  brother  of  Frederick 
of  Austria,  and  one  of  the  bravest  knights  and  ablest 
generals  of  the  realm.  Following  the  van  came  a 
second  division,  composed  of  the  inferior  leaders  and 
the  rank  and  file  of  the  army. 

Switzerland  was  to  be  severely  punished,  and  to 
be  reduced  again  to  the  condition  from  which  seven 
years  before  it  had  broken  away;  such  was  the 
dictum  of  the  Austrian  magnates.  With  the  army 
came  Landenberg,  the  oppressive  governor  who  had 
been  set  free  on  his  oath  never  to  return  to  Switzer- 
land. He  was  returning  in  defiance  of  his  vow. 
With  it  are  also  said  to  have  been  several  of  the 
family  of  Gessler,  the  tyrant  who  fell  beneath  Tell's 
avenging  arrow.  The  birds  of  prey  were  flying  back, 
k  15  165 


166  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

eager  to  fatten  on  the  body  of  slain  liberty  in  Swit- 
zorland. 

Up  the  mountains  wound  the  serried  band,  proud 
in  their  panoply,  confident  of  easy  victory,  their 
voices  ringing  out  in  laughter  and  disdain  as  they 
spoke  of  the  swift  vengeance  that  was  about  to  fall 
on  the  heads  of  the  horde  of  rebel  mountaineers. 
The  duke  was  as  gay  and  confidant  as  any  of  his 
followers,  as  he  proudly  bestrode  his  noble  war- 
horse,  and  led  the  way  up  the  mountain  slopes  to- 
wards the  district  of  Schwyz,  the  head-quarters  of 
the  base-born  insurgents.  He  would  trample  the 
insolent  boors  under  his  feet,  he  said,  and  had  pro- 
vided himself  with  an  abundant  supply  of  ropes 
with  which  to  hang  the  leaders  of  the  rebels,  whom 
he  counted  on  soon  having  in  his  power. 

All  was  silent  about  them  as  they  rode  forward ; 
the  sun  shone  brilliantly ;  it  seemed  like  a  pleasure 
excursion  on  which  they  were  bound. 

"  The  locusts  have  crawled  to  their  holes,"  said 
the  duke,  laughingly;  "we  will  have  to  stir  them 
nut  with  the  points  of  our  lances." 

"  The  poor  fools  fancied  that  liberty  was  to  be  won 
by  driving  out  one  governor  and  shooting  another," 
answered  a  noble  knight.  "  They  will  find  that  the 
eagle  of  Hapsburg  does  not  loose  its  hold  so  easily." 

Their  conversation  ceased  as  they  found  them- 
selves at  the  entrance  to  a  pass,  through  which  the 
road  up  the  mountains  wound,  a  narrow  avenue, 
wedged  in  between  hills  and  lakeside.  The  silence 
continued  unbroken  around  the  rugged  scene  as  the 
cavalry  pushed  in  close  ranks  through  the  pass,  fill- 


THE   SWISS    AT   MORGARTEN.  167 

ing  it,  as  they  advanced,  from  side  to  side.  They 
pushed  forward;  beyond  this  pass  of  Morgarten 
they  would  find  open  land  again  and  the  villages  of 
the  rebellious  peasantry;  here  all  was  solitude  and 
a  stillness  that  was  almost  depressing. 

Suddenly  the  stillness  was  broken.  From  the 
rugged  cliffs  which  bordered  the  pass  came  a  loud 
shout  of  defiance.  But  more  alarming  still  was  the 
sound  of  descending  rocks,  which  came  plunging 
down  the  mountain  side,  and  in  an  instant  fell  with 
a  sickening  thud  on  the  mail-clad  and  crowded  ranks 
below.  Under  their  weight  the  iron  helmets  of  the 
knights  cracked  like  so  many  nut-shells ;  heads  were 
crushed  into  shapeless  masses,  and  dozens  of  men,  a 
moment  before  full  of  life,  hope,  and  ambition,  were 
hurled  in  death  to  the  ground. 

Down  still  plunged  the  rocks,  loosened  by  busy 
hands  above,  sent  on  their  errand  of  death  down  the 
steep  declivities,  hurling  destruction  upon  the  dense 
masses  below.  Escape  was  impossible.  The  pass 
was  filled  with  horsemen.  It  would  take  time  to 
open  an  avenue  of  flight,  and  still  those  death-deal- 
ing rocks  came  down,  smashing  the  strongest  armor 
like  pasteboard,  strewing  the  pass  with  dead  and 
bleeding  bodies. 

And  now  the  horses,  terrified,  wounded,  mad  with 
pain  and  alarm,  began  to  plunge  and  rear,  trebling 
the  confusion  and  terror,  crushing  fallen  riders  under 
their  hoofs,  adding  their  quota  to  the  sum  of  death 
and  dismay.  Many  of  them  rushed  wildly  into  the 
lake  which  bordered  one  side  of  the  pass,  carrying 
their  riders  to  a  watery  death.     In  a  few  minutes' 


168  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

time  that  trim  and  soldierly  array,  filled  with  hope 
of  easy  victory  and  disdain  of  its  foes,  was  converted 
into  a  mob  of  maddened  horses  and  frightened  men, 
while  the  rocky  pass  beneath  their  feet  was  strewn 
thickly  with  the  dying  and  the  dead. 

Yet  all  this  had  been  done  by  fifty  men,  fifty  ban- 
ished patriots,  who  had  hastened  back  on  learning 
that  their  country  was  in  danger,  and  stationing 
themselves  among  the  cliffs  above  the  pass,  had 
loosened  and  sent  rolling  downwards  the  stones  and 
huge  fragments  of  rock  which  lay  plentifully  there. 

While  the  fifty  returned  exiles  were  thus  at  work 
on  the  height  of  Morgarten,  the  army  of  the  Swiss, 
thirteen  hundred  in  number,  was  posted  on  the  sum- 
mit of  the  Sattel  Mountain  opposite,  waiting  its 
opportunity.  The  time  for  action  had  come.  The 
Austrian  cavalry  of  the  vanguard  was  in  a  state  of 
frightful  confusion  and  dismay.  And  now  the  moun- 
taineers descended  the  steep  hill  slopes  like  an  ava- 
lanche, and  precipitated  themselves  on  the  flank  of 
the  invading  force,  dealing  death  with  their  halberds 
and  iron-pointed  clubs  until  the  pass  ran  blood. 

On  every  side  the  Austrian  chivalry  fell.  Escape 
was  next  to  impossible,  resistance  next  to  useless. 
Confined  in  that  narrow  passage,  confused,  terrified, 
their  ranks  broken  by  the  rearing  and  plunging 
horses,  knights  and  men-at-arms  falling  with  every 
blow  from  their  vigorous  assailants,  it  seemed  as  if 
the  whole  army  would  be  annihilated,  and  not  a  mar 
escape  to  tell  the  tale. 

Numbers  of  gallant  knights,  the  flower  of  the 
Austrian  nobility,  fell  under  those  vengeful  clubs. 


THE   SWISS   AT    MORGARTEN.  169 

Numbers  were  drowned  in  the  lake.  A  halberd- 
thrust  revenged  Switzerland  on  Landenberg,  who 
had  come  back  to  his  doom.  Two  of  the  Gesslers 
were  slain.  Death  held  high  carnival  in  that  proud 
array  which  had  vowed  to  reduce  the  free-spirited 
mountaineers  to  servitude. 

Such  as  could  fled  in  all  haste.  The  van  of  the 
army,  which  had  passed  beyond  those  death-dealing 
rocks,  the  rear,  which  had  not  yet  come  up,  broke 
and  fled  in  a  panic  of  fear.  Duke  Leopold  narrowly 
escaped  from  the  vengeance  of  the  mountaineers, 
whom  he  had  held  in  such  contempt.  Instead  of 
using  the  ropes  he  had  brought  with  him  to  hang 
their  chiefs,  he  fled  at  fall  speed  from  the  victors,  who 
were  now  pursuing  the  scattered  fragments  of  the 
army,  and  slaying  the  fugitives  in  scores.  With 
difficulty  the  proud  duke  escaped,  owing  his  safety 
to  a  peasant,  who  guided  him  through  narrow  ra- 
vines and  passes  as  far  as  Winterthur,  which  he  at 
length  reached  in  a  state  of  the  utmost  dejection  and 
fatigue.  The  gallantly-arrayed  army  which  he  had 
that  morning  led,  with  blare  of  trumpets  and  glitter 
of  spears,  with  high  hope  and  proud  assurance  of 
victory,  up  the  mountain  slopes,  was  now  in  great 
part  a  gory  heap  in  the  rocky  passes,  the  remainder 
a  scattered  host  of  wearied  and  wounded  fugitives. 
Switzerland  had  won  its  freedom. 

The  day  before  the  Swiss  confederates,  apprised  of 
the  approach  of  the  Austrians,  had  come  together, 
four  hundred  men  from  Uri,  three  hundred  from 
Unterwald,  the  remainder  from  Schwyz.  They  owed 
their  success  to  Eudolphus  Bedin,  a  venerable  patriot, 
H  15 


170  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

so  old  and  infirm  that  he  could  scarcely  walk,  yet 
with  such  reputation  for  skill  and  prudence  in  war 
that  the  warriors  halted  at  his  door  in  their  march, 
and  eagerly  asked  his  advice. 

"  Our  grand  aim,  my  sons,"  said  he,  "  as  we  are  so 
inferior  in  numbers,  must  be  to  prevent  Duke  Leo- 
pold from  gaining  any  advantage  by  his  superior 
force." 

He  then  advised  them  to  occupy  the  Morgarten 
and  Sattel  heights,  and  fall  on  the  xiustrians  when 
entangled  in  the  pass,  cutting  their  force  in  two,  and 
assailing  it  right  and  left.  They  obeyed  him  implicitly, 
with  what  success  we  have  seen.  The  fifty  men  who 
had  so  efficiently  begun  the  fray  had  been  banished 
from  Schwyz  through  some  dispute,  but  on  learning 
their  country's  danger  had  hastily  returned  to  sacri- 
fice their  lives,  if  need  be,  for  their  native  land. 

Thus  a  strong  and  well-appointed  army,  fully  dis- 
ciplined and  led  by  warriors  famed  for  courage  and 
warlike  deeds,  was  annihilated  by  a  small  band  of 
peasants,  few  of  whom  had  ever  struck  a  blow  in 
war,  but  who  were  animated  by  the  highest  spirit  of 
patriotism  and  love  of  liberty,  and  welcomed  death 
rather  than  a  return  to  their  old  state  of  slavery  and 
oppression.  The  short  space  of  an  hour  and  a  half 
did  the  work.  Austria  was  defeated  and  Switzerland 
was  free. 


A  MAD  EMPEROR. 

If  genius  to  madness  is  allied,  the  same  may  be  said 
of  eccentricity,  and  certainly  Wenceslas,  Emperor  of 
Germany  and  King  of  Bohemia,  had  an  eccentricity 
that  approached  the  vagaries  of  the  insane.  The 
oldest  son  of  Charles  IV.,  he  was  brought  up  in 
pomp  and  luxury,  and  was  so  addicted  to  sensual 
gratification  that  he  left  the  empire  largely  to  take 
care  of  itself,  while  he  gave  his  time  to  the  pleasures 
of  the  bottle  and  the  chase.  Born  to  the  throne,  he 
was  crowned  King  of  Bohemia  when  but  three  years 
of  age,  was  elected  King  of  the  Eomans  at  fifteen, 
and  two  years  afterwards,  in  1378,  became  Emperor 
of  Germany,  when  still  but  a  boy,  with  regard  for 
nothing  but  riot  and  rude  frolic. 

So  far  as  affairs  of  state  were  concerned,  the  mad 
youth  either  totally  neglected  them  or  treated  them 
with  a  ridicule  that  was  worse  than  neglect.  Drunk 
two-thirds  of  his  time,  he  now  dismissed  the  most 
serious  matters  with  a  rude  jest,  now  met  his  coun- 
cillors with  brutal  fits  of  rage.  The  Germans  deemed 
him  a  fool,  and  were  not  far  amiss  in  their  opinion  ; 
but  as  he  did  not  meddle  with  them,  except  in  hold- 
ing an  occasional  useless  diet  at  Nuremberg,  they 
did  not  meddle  with  him.  The  Bohemians,  among 
whom  he  lived,  his  residence  being  at  Prague,  found 

171 


172  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

his  rule  much  more  of  a  burden.  They  were  exposed 
to  his  savage  caprices,  and  regarded  him  as  a  brutal 
and  senseless  tyrant. 

That  there  was  method  in  his  madness  the  follow- 
ing anecdote  will  sufficiently  show.  Former  kings 
had  invested  the  Bohemian  nobles  with  possessions 
which  he,  moved  by  cupidity,  determined  to  have 
back.  This  is  the  method  he  took  to  obtain  them 
All  the  nobles  of  the  land  were  invited  to  meet  him 
at  Willamow,  where  he  received  them  in  a  black 
tent,  which  opened  on  one  side  into  a  white,  and  on 
the  other  into  a  red  one.  Into  this  tent  of  ominous 
hue  the  waiting  nobles  were  admitted,  one  at  a  time, 
and  were  here  received  by  the  emperor,  who  per- 
emptorily bade  them  declare  what  lands  they  held 
as  gifts  from  the  crown. 

Those  who  gave  the  information  asked,  and  agreed 
to  cede  these  lands  back  to  the  crown,  were  led  into 
the  white  tent,  where  an  ample  feast  awaited  them. 
Those  who  refused  were  dismissed  with  frowns  into 
the  red  tent,  where  they  found  awaiting  them  the 
headsman's  fatal  block  and  axe.  The  hapless  guests 
were  instantly  seized  and  beheaded. 

This  ghastly  jest,  if  such  it  may  be  considered, 
proceeded  for  some  time  before  the  nobles  still  wait- 
ing learned  what  was  going  on.  When  at  length 
a  whisper  of  the  frightful  mystery  of  the  red  tent 
was  borne  to  their  ears,  there  were  no  longer  any 
candidates  for  its  favors.  The  emperor  found  them 
eagerly  willing  to  give  up  the  ceded  lands,  and  all 
that  remained  found  their  way  to  the  white  tent  and 
the  feast. 


A   MAD   EMPEEOE.  173 

The  emperor's  next  act  of  arbitrary  tyranny  was 
directed  against  the  Jews.  One  of  that  people  had 
ridiculed  the  sacrament,  in  consequence  of  which 
three  thousand  Jews  of  Prague  were  massacred  by 
the  populace  of  that  city.  Wenceslas,  instead  of 
punishing  the  murderers,  as  justice  would  seem  to 
have  demanded,  solaced  his  easy  conscience  by  pun- 
ishing the  victims,  declaring  all  debts  owed  by  Chris- 
tians to  Jews  to  be  null  and  void. 

His  next  act  of  injustice  and  cruelty  was  perpe- 
trated in  1393,  and  arose  from  a  dispute  between 
the  crown  and  the  church.  One  of  the  royal  cham- 
berlains had  caused  two  priests  to  be  executed  for 
some  flagrant  crime.  This  action  was  resented  by 
the  Archbishop  of  Prague,  who  declared  that  it 
was  an  encroachment  upon  the  prerogative  of  the 
church,  which  alone  had  the  right  to  punish  an 
ecclesiastic.  He,  therefore,  excommunicated  the 
chamberlain. 

This  action  of  the  daring  churchman  threw  the 
emperor  into  such  a  paroxysm  of  rage  that  the 
archbishop,  knowing  well  the  man  he  had  to  deal 
with,  took  to  flight,  saving  his  neck  at  the  expense 
of  his  dignity.  The  furious  Wenceslas,  finding  that 
the  chief  offender  had  escaped,  vented  his  wrath 
on  the  subordinates,  several  of  whom  were  seized. 
One  of  them,  the  dean,  moved  by  indignation,  dealt 
the  emperor  so  heavy  a  blow  on  the  head  with  his 
sword-knot  as  to  bring  the  blood.  It  does  not  ap- 
pear that  he  was  made  to  suffer  for  his  boldness,  but 
two  of  the  lower  ecclesiastics,  John  of  Pomuk  and 
Puchnik,  were  put  to  the  rack  to  make  them  confess 
15* 


174  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

what  they  knew  of  the  purposes  of  the  archbishop 
They  persistently  refused  to  answer.  Wenceslas, 
infuriated  by  their  obstinacy,  himself  seized  a  torch 
and  applied  it  to  their  limbs  to  make  them  speak. 
They  were  still  silent.  The  affair  ended  in  his  order- 
ing John  of  Pomuk  to  be  flung  headlong,  during  the 
night,  from  the  great  bridge  over  the  Moldau  into 
the  stream.  A  statue  now  marks  the  spot  where 
this  act  of  tyranny  was  performed. 

The  final  result  of  the  emperor's  cruelty  was  one 
which  he  could  not  have  foreseen.  He  had  made 
a  saint  of  Pomuk.  The  church,  appreciating  the 
courageous  devotion  of  the  murdered  ecclesiastic  to 
its  interests,  canonized  him  as  a  martyr,  and  made 
him  the  patron  saint  of  all  bridges. 

Puchnik  escaped  with  his  life,  and  eventually  with 
more  than  his  life.  The  tyrant's  wrath  was  followed 
by  remorse, — a  feeling,  apparently,  which  rarely 
troubled  his  soul, — and  he  sought  to  atone  for  his 
cruelty  to  one  churchman  by  loading  the  other  with 
benefits.  But  his  mad  fury  changed  to  as  mad  a 
benevolence,  and  he  managed  to  make  a  jest  of  his 
gratuity.  Puchnik  was  led  into  the  royal  treasury, 
and  the  emperor  himself,  thrusting  his  royal  hands 
into  his  hoards  of  gold,  filled  the  pockets,  and  even 
the  boots,  of  the  late  sufferer  with  the  precious  coin. 
This  done,  Puchnik  attempted  to  depart,  but  in  vain. 
He  found  himself  nailed  to  the  floor,  so  weighed  down 
with  gold  that  he  was  unable  to  stir.  Before  he  could 
move  he  had  to  disgorge  much  of  his  new-gained 
wealth,  a  proceeding  to  which  churchmen  in  that  age 
do  not  seem  to  have  been  greatly  given.     Doubtless 


A   MAD   EMPEROR.  175 

the  remorseful  "Wenceslas  beheld  this  process  with  a 
grim  smile  of  royal  humor  on  his  lips. 

The  emperor  had  a  brother,  Sigismund  by  name,  a 
man  not  of  any  high  degree  of  wisdom,  but  devoid 
of  his  wild  and  immoderate  temper.  Brandenburg 
was  his  inheritance,  though  he  had  married  the 
daughter  of  the  King  of  Hungary  and  Poland,  and 
hoped  to  succeed  to  those  countries.  There  was  a 
third  brother,  John,  surnamed  "  Von  Gorlitz."  Sigis- 
mund was  by  no  means  blind  to  his  brother's  folly, 
or  to  the  ruin  in  which  it  threatened  to  involve  his 
family  and  his  own  future  prospects.  This  last  ex- 
ploit stirred  him  to  action.  Concerting  with  some 
other  princes  of  the  empire,  he  suddenly  seized 
Wenceslas,  carried  him  to  Austria,  and  imprisoned 
him  in  the  castle  of  Wiltberg,  in  that  country. 

A  fair  disposal,  this,  of  a  man  who  was  scarcely 
fit  to  run  at  large,  most  reasonable  persons  would 
say ;  but  all  did  not  think  so,  John  von  Gorlitz,  the 
younger  brother  of  the  emperor,  fearing  public  scan- 
dal from  such  a  transaction,  induced  the  princes  who 
held  him  to  set  him  free.  It  proved  a  fatal  display 
of  kindness  and  family  affection  for  himself.  The 
imperial  captive  was  no  sooner  free  than,  concealing 
the  wrath  which  he  felt  at  his  incarceration,  he  in- 
vited to  a  banquet  certain  Bohemian  nobles  who  had 
aided  in  it.  They  came,  trusting  to  the  fact  that  the 
tiger's  claws  seemed  sheathed.  They  had  no  sooner 
arrived  than  the  claws  were  displayed.  They  were 
all  seized,  by  the  emperor's  order,  and  beheaded. 
Then  the  dissimulating  madman  turned  on  his  be- 
nevolent brother  John,  who  had  taken  control  of 


176  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

affairs  in  Bohemia  during  his  imprisonment,  and 
poisoned  him.  It  was  a  new  proof  of  the  old  adage, 
it  is  never  safe  to  warm  a  frozen  adder. 

The  restoration  of  Wenceslas  was  followed  by  other 
acts  of  folly.  In  the  following  year,  1395,  he  sold  to 
John  Galeazzo  Visconti,  of  Milan,  the  dignity  of  a 
duke  in  Lombardy,  a  transaction  which  exposed  him 
to  general  contempt.  At  a  later  date  he  visited  Paris, 
and  here,  in  a  drunken  frolic,  he  played  into  the 
hands  of  the  King  of  France  by  ceding  Genoa  to 
that  country,  and  by  recognizing  the  antipope  at 
Avignon,  instead  of  Boniface  IX.  at  Eome.  These 
acts  filled  the  cup  of  his  folly.  The  princes  of  the 
empire  resolved  to  depose  him.  A  council  was  called, 
before  which  he  was  cited  to  appear.  He  refused 
to  come,  and  was  formally  deposed,  Eupert,  of  the 
Palatinate,  being  elected  in  his  stead.  Ten  years 
afterwards,  in  1410,  Eupert  died,  and  Sigismund 
became  Emperor  of  Germany. 

Meanwhile,  Wenceslas  remained  King  of  Bohemia, 
in  spite  of  his  brother  Sigismund,  who  sought  to  oust 
him  from  this  throne  also.  He  took  him  prisoner, 
indeed,  but  trusted  him  to  the  Austrians,  who  at 
once  set  him  free,  and  the  Bohemians  replaced  him 
on  the  throne.  Some  years  afterwards,  war  con- 
tinuing, Wenceslas  sought  to  get  rid  of  his  brother 
Sigismund  in  the  same  manner  as  he  had  disposed 
of  his  brother  John,  by  poison.  He  was  successful 
in  having  it  administered  to  Sigismund  and  his  ally, 
Albert  of  Austria,  in  their  camp  before  Zuaym. 
Albert  died,  but  Sigismund  was  saved  by  a  rude 
treatment  which  seems  to  have  been  in  vogue  in  that 


A   MAD   EMPEROR.  177 

day.     He  was  suspended  by  the  feet  for  twenty-four 
hours,  so  that  the  poison  ran  out  of  his  mouth. 

The  later  events  in  the  life  of  Wenceslas  have  to 
do  with  the  most  famous  era  in  the  history  of  Bohe- 
mia, the  reformation  in  that  country,  and  the  stories 
of  John  Huss  and  Ziska.  The  fate  of  Huss  is  well 
known.  Summoned  before  the  council  at  Constance, 
and  promised  a  safe-conduct  by  the  Emperor  Sigis- 
mund,  he  went,  only  to  find  the  emperor  faithless  to 
his  word  and  himself  condemned  and  burnt  as  a 
heretic.  This  base  act  of  treachery  was  destined  to 
bring  a  bloody  retribution.  It  infuriated  the  re- 
formers in  Bohemia,  who,  after  brooding  for  several 
years  over  their  wrongs,  broke  out  into  an  insurrec- 
tion of  revenge. 

The  leader  of  this  outbreak  was  an  officer  of  ex- 
perience, named  John  Ziska,  a  man  who  had  lost  one 
eye  in  childhood,  and  who  bitterly  hated  the  priest- 
hood for  a  wrong  done  to  one  of  his  sisters.  The 
martyrdom  of  Huss  threw  him  into  such  deep  and 
silent  dejection  that  one  day  the  king,  in  whose 
court  he  was,  asked  him  why  he  was  so  sad. 

"  Huss  is  burnt,  and  we  have  not  yet  avenged  him," 
replied  Ziska. 

"  I  can  do  nothing  in  that  direction,"  said  Wen- 
ceslas ;  adding,  carelessly,  "  you  might  attempt  it 
yourself." 

This  was  spoken  as  a  jest,  but  Ziska  took  it  in 
deadly  earnest.  He,  aided  by  his  friends,  roused  the 
people,  greatly  to  the  alarm  of  the  king,  who  ordered 
the  citizens  to  bring  their  arms  to  the  royal  castle  of 
Wisherad.  which  commanded  the  city  of  Prague, 
iv — *» 


178  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Ziska  heard  the  command,  and  obeyed  it  in  his 
own  way.  The  arms  were  brought,  but  they  came 
in  the  hands  of  the  citizens,  who  marched  in  long 
files  to  the  fortress,  and  drew  themselves  up  before 
the  king,  Ziska  at  their  head. 

"  My  gracious  and  mighty  sovereign,  here  we  are," 
said  the  bold  leader;  "we  await  your  commands; 
against  what  enemy  are  we  to  fight  ?" 

Wenceslas  looked  at  those  dense  groups  of  armed 
and  resolute  men,  and  concluded  that  his  purpose  of 
disarming  them  would  not  work.  Assuming  a  cheer- 
ful countenance,  he  bade  them  return  home  and  keep 
the  peace.  They  obe}*ed,  so  far  as  returning  home 
was  concerned.  In  other  matters  they  had  learned 
their  power,  and  were  bent  on  exerting  it. 

Nicolas  of  Hussinez,  Huss's  former  lord,  and 
Ziska's  seconder  in  this  outbreak,  was  banished  from 
the  city  by  the  king.  He  went,  but  took  forty  thou- 
sand men  with  him,  who  assembled  on  a  mountain 
which  was  afterwards  known  by  the  biblical  name 
of  Mount  Tabor.  Here  several  hundred  tables  wTere 
spread  for  the  celebration  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  July 
22,  1419. 

Wenceslas,  in  attempting  to  put  a  summary  end  to 
the  disturbance  in  the  city,  quickly  made  bad  worse. 
He  deposed  the  Hussite  city  council  in  the  Neustadt, 
the  locality  of  greatest  disturbance,  and  replaced  it 
by  a  new  one  in  his  own  interests.  This  action  filled 
Prague  with  indignation,  which  was  redoubled  when 
the  new  council  sent  two  clamorous  Hussites  to 
prison.  On  the  30th  of  July  Ziska  led  a  strong 
body  of  his   partisans  through  the   streets  to   the 


A    MAD   EMPEROR.  179 

council-house,  and  sternly  demanded  that  the  pris- 
oners should  be  set  free. 

The  councillors  hesitated,— a  fatal  hesitation.  A 
stone  was  flung  from  one  of  the  windows.  Instantly 
the  mob  stormed  the  building,  rushed  into  the  council- 
room,  and  seized  the  councillors,  thirteen  of  whom, 
Germans  by  birth,  were  flung  out  of  the  windows. 
They  were  received  on  the  pikes  of  the  furious  mob 
below,  and  the  whole  of  them  murdered. 

This  act  of  violence  was  quickly  followed  by  others. 
The  dwelling  of  a  priest,  supposed  to  have  been  that 
of  the  seducer  of  Ziska's  sister,  was  destroyed  and 
its  owner  hanged;  the  Carthusian  monks  were 
dragged  through  the  streets,  crowned  with  thorns, 
and  other  outrages  perpetrated  against  the  opponents 
of  the  party  of  reform. 

A  few  days  afterwards  the  career  of  Wenceslas, 
once  Emperor  of  Germany,  now  King  of  Bohemia, 
came  to  an  abrupt  end.  On  August  16  he  suddenly 
died, — by  apoplexy,  say  some  historians,  while  others 
say  that  he  was  suffocated  in  his  palace  by  his  own 
attendants.  The  latter  would  seem  a  fitting  end  for 
a  man  whose  life  had  been  marked  by  so  many  acts 
of  tyrannous  violence,  some  of  them  little  short  of 
insanity. 

Whatever  its  cause,  his  death  removed  the  last 
restraint  from  the  mob.  On  the  following  day  every 
church  and  monastery  in  Prague  was  assailed  and 
plundered,  their  pictures  were  destroyed,  and  the 
robes  of  the  priests  were  converted  into  flags  and 
dresses.  Many  of  these  buildings  are  said  to  have 
been   splendidly  decorated,   and    the    royal  palace, 


180  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

which  was  also  destroyed,  had  been  adorned  by 
Wenceslas  and  his  father  with  the  richest  treasures 
of  art.  We  are  told  that  on  the  walls  of  a  garden 
belonging  to  the  palace  the  whole  of  the  Bible  was 
written.  While  the  work  of  destruction  went  on,  a 
priest  formed  an  altar  in  the  street  of  three  tubs, 
covered  by  a  broad  table-top,  from  which  all  day 
long  he  dispensed  the  sacrament  in  both  forms. 

The  excesses  of  this  outbreak  soon  frightened  the 
wealthier  citizens,  who  dreaded  an  assault  upon  their 
wealth,  and,  in  company  with  Sophia,  the  widow  of 
Wenceslas,  they  sent  a  deputation  to  the  emperor, 
asking  him  to  make  peace.  He  replied  by  swearing 
to  take  a  fearful  revenge  on  the  insurgents.  The 
insurrection  continued,  despite  this  action  of  the 
nobles  and  the  threats  of  the  emperor.  Ziska,  find- 
ing the  citizens  too  moderate,  invited  into  the  city 
the  peasants,  who  were  armed  with  flails,  and  com- 
mitted many  excesses. 

Forced  by  the  moderate  party  to  leave  the  city. 
Ziska  led  his  new  adherents  to  Mount  Tabor,  which 
he  fortified  and  prepared  to  defend.  They  called 
themselves  the  "people  of  God,"  and  styled  their 
Catholic  opponents  "Moabites,"  "  Amalekites,"  etc., 
declaring  that  it  was  their  duty  to  extirpate  them. 
Their  leader  entitled  himself  "John  Ziska,  of  the 
cup,  captain,  in  the  hope  of  God,  of  the  Taborites." 

But  having  brought  the  story  of  the  Emperor  Wen- 
ceslas to  an  end,  we  must  stop  at  this  point.  The 
after-life  of  John  Ziska  was  of  such  stir  and  interest, 
and  so  filled  with  striking  events,  that  we  shall  doa, 
with  it  by  itself,  in  a  sequel  to  the  present  story. 


SEMPACH  AND  ARNOLD    WINK- 
ELRIED. 

Seventy  years  had  passed  since  the  battle  of 
Morgarten,  through  which  freedom  came  to  the 
lands  of  the  Swiss.  Throughout  that  long  period 
Austria  had  let  the  liberty-loving  mountaineers 
alone,  deterred  by  the  frightful  lesson  taught  them 
in  the  bloody  pass.  In  the  interval  the  confederacy 
had  grown  more  extensive.  The  towns  of  Berne, 
Zurich,  Soleure,  and  Zug  had  joined  it;  and  now 
several  other  towns  and  villages,  incensed  by  the 
oppression  and  avarice  of  their  Austrian  masters, 
threw  off  the  foreign  yoke  and  allied  themselves  to 
the  Swiss  confederacy.  It  was  time  for  the  Austrians 
to  be  moving,  if  they  would  retain  any  possessions 
in  the  Alpine  realm  of  rocks. 

Duke  Leopold  of  Austria,  a  successor  to  the  Leo- 
pold who  had  learned  so  well  at  Morgarten  how  the 
Swiss  could  strike  for  liberty,  and  as  bold  and  arro- 
gant as  he,  grew  incensed  at  the  mountaineers  for 
taking  into  their  alliance  several  towns  which  were 
subject  to  him,  and  vowed  not  only  to  chastise  these 
rebels,  but  to  subdue  the  whole  country,  and  put  an 
end  to  their  insolent  confederacy.  His  feeling  was 
shared  by  the  Austrian  nobles,  one  hundred  and 
16  181 


182  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

sixty-seven  of  whom  joined  in  his  warlike  scheme, 
and  agreed  to  aid  him  in  putting  down  the  defiant 
mountaineers. 

War  resolved  upon,  the  Austrians  laid  a  shrewd 
plan  to  fill  the  Swiss  confederates  with  terror  in 
advance  of  their  approach.  Letters  declaring  war 
were  sent  to  the  confederate  assembly  by  twenty 
distinct  expresses,  with  the  hope  that  this  rapid 
succession  of  threats  would  overwhelm  them  with 
fear.  The  separate  nobles  followed  with  their  dec- 
larations. On  St.  John's  day  a  messenger  arrived 
from  Wtirtemberg  bearing  fifteen  declarations  of 
war.  Hardly  had  these  letters  been  read  when 
nine  more  arrived,  sent  by  John  Ulric  of  Pfirt 
and  eight  other  nobles.  Others  quickly  followed ;  it 
fairly  rained  declarations  of  war ;  the  members  of 
the  assembly  had  barely  time  to  read  one  batch  of 
threatening  fulminations  before  another  arrived. 
Letters  from  the  lords  of  Thurn  came  after  those 
named,  followed  by  a  batch  from  the  nobles  of 
Schaffhausen.  This  seemed  surely  enough,  but  on 
the  following  day  the  rain  continued,  eight  successive 
messengers  arriving,  who  bore  no  less  than  forty- 
three  declarations  of  war. 

It  seemed  as  if  the  whole  north  was  about  to 
descend  in  a  cyclone  of  banners  and  spears  upon  the 
mountain  land.  The  assembly  sat  breathless  under 
this  torrent  of  threats.  Had  their  hearts  been  open 
to  the  invasion  of  terror  they  must  surely  have  been 
overwhelmed,  and  have  waited  in  the  supineness  of 
fear  for  the  coming  of  their  foes. 

But  the  hearts  of  the  Swiss  were  not  of  that  kind. 


SEMPACH  AND  ARNOLD  WINKELRIED.      183 

They  were  too  full  of  courage  and  patriotism  to  leave 
room  for  dismay.  Instead  of  awaiting  their  enemies 
with  dread,  a  burning  impatience  animated  their 
souls.  If  liberty  or  death  were  the  alternatives,  the 
sooner  the  conflict  began  the  more  to  their  liking  it 
would  be.  The  cry  of  war  resounded  through  the 
country,  and  everywhere,  in  valley  and  on  mountain, 
by  lake- side  and  by  glacier's  rim,  the  din  of  hostile 
preparation  might  have  been  heard,  as  the  patriots 
arranged  their  affairs  and  forged  and  sharpened  their 
weapons  for  the  coming  fray. 

Far  too  impatient  were  they  to  wait  for  the 
coming  of  Leopold  and  his  army.  There  were  Aus- 
trian nobles  and  Austrian  castles  within  their  land. 
No  sooner  was  the  term  of  the  armistice  at  an  end 
than  the  armed  peasantry  swarmed  about  these 
strongholds,  and  many  a  fortress,  long  the  seat  of 
oppression,  was  taken  and  levelled  with  the  ground. 
The  war-cry  of  Leopold  and  the  nobles  had  inspired 
a  different  feeling  from  that  counted  upon. 

It  was  not  long  before  Duke  Leopold  appeared. 
At  the  head  of  a  large  and  well-appointed  force,  and 
attended  by  many  distinguished  knights  and  nobles, 
he  marched  into  the  mountain  region  and  advanced 
upon  Sempach,  one  of  the  revolted  towns,  resolved, 
he  said,  to  punish  its  citizens  with  a  rod  of  iron  for 
their  daring  rebellion. 

On  the  9th  of  July,  1386,  the  Austrian  cavalry, 
several  thousands  in  number,  reached  the  vicinity  of 
Sempach,  having  distanced  the  foot-soldiers  in  the 
impatient  haste  of  their  advance.  Here  they  found 
the  weak  array  of  the  Swiss  gathered  on  the  sur- 


184  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

rounding  heights,  and  as  eager  as  themselves  for  the 
fray.  It  was  a  small  force,  no  stronger  than  that 
of  Morgarten,  comprising  only  about  fourteen  hun- 
dred poorly-armed  men.  Some  carried  halberds 
some  shorter  weapons,  while  some  among  them, 
instead  of  a  shield,  had  only  a  small  board  fast- 
ened to  the  left  arm.  It  seemed  like  madness  for 
such  a  band  to  dare  contend  with  the  thousands  of 
well-equipped  invaders.  But  courage  and  patriot 
ism  go  far  to  replace  numbers,  as  that  day  was  to 
show. 

Leopold  looked  upon  his  handful  of  foes,  and  de- 
cided that  it  would  be  folly  to  wait  for  the  footmen 
to  arrive.  Surely  his  host  of  nobles  and  knights, 
with  their  followers,  would  soon  sweep  these  peas- 
ants, like  so  many  locusts,  from  their  path.  Yet  he 
remembered  the  confusion  into  which  the  cavalry 
had  been  thrown  at  Morgarten,  and  deeming  that 
horsemen  were  ill-suited  to  an  engagement  on  those 
wooded  hill-sides,  he  ordered  the  entire  force  to 
dismount  and  attack  on  foot. 

The  plan  adopted  was  that  the  dismounted  knights 
and  soldiers  should  join  their  ranks  as  closely  as 
possible,  until  their  front  presented  an  unbroken 
wall  of  iron,  and  thus  arrayed  should  charge  the 
enemy  spear  in  hand.  Leaving  their  attendants  in 
charge  of  their  horses,  the  serried  column  of  foot- 
men prepared  to  advance,  confident  of  sweeping 
their  foes  to  death  before  their  closely-knit  line  of 
spears. 

Yet  this  plan  of  battle  was  not  without  its  critics. 
The  Baron  of  Hasenburg,  a  veteran  soldier,  looked 


SEMPACH  AND  ARNOLD  WINKELRIED.      185 

on  it  with  disfavor,  as  contrasted  with  the  position 
of  vantage  occupied  by  the  Swiss,  and  cautioned  the 
duke  and  his  nobles  against  undue  assurance. 

"  Pride  never  served  any  good  purpose  in  peace  or 
war,"  he  said.  "  We  had  much  better  wait  until  the 
infantry  come  up." 

This  prudent  advice  was  received  with  shouts  of 
derision  by  the  nobles,  some  of  whom  cried  out  in- 
sultingly,— 

"  Der  Hasenburg  hat  ein  Hasenkerz"  ("  Hasen- 
burg  has  a  hare's  heart,"  a  play  upon  the  baron's 
name). 

Certain  nobles,  however,  who  had  not  quite  lost 
their  prudence,  tried  to  persuade  the  duke  to  keep 
in  the  rear,  as  the  true  position  for  a  leader.  He 
smiled  proudly  in  reply,  and  exclaimed  with  impa- 
tience,— 

"  What !  shall  Leopold  be  a  mere  looker-on,  and 
calmly  behold  his  knights  die  around  him  in  his  own 
cause  ?  Never !  here  on  my  native  soil  with  you  I 
will  conquer  or  perish  with  my  people."  So  saying, 
he  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  troops. 

And  now  the  decisive  moment  was  at  hand.  The 
Swiss  had  kept  to  the  heights  while  their  enemy 
continued  mounted,  not  venturing  to  face  such  a 
body  of  cavalry  on  level  ground.  But  when  they 
saw  them  forming  as  foot-soldiers,  they  left  the  hills 
and  marched  to  the  plain  below.  Soon  the  unequal 
forces  confronted  each  other ;  the  Swiss,  as  was  their 
custom,  falling  upon  their  knees  and  praying  for 
God's  aid  to  their  cause ;  the  Austrians  fastening 
their  helmets  and  preparing  for  the  fray.  The  duke 
16* 


186  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

even  took  the  occasion  to  give  the  boner  of  knight- 
hood to  several  young  warriors. 

The  day  was  a  hot  and  close  one,  the  season  being 
that  of  harvest,  and  the  sun  pouring  down  its  un- 
clouded and  burning  rays  upon  the  combatants.  This 
sultriness  was  a  marked  advantage  to  the  lightly- 
dressed  mountaineers  as  compared  with  the  armor- 
clad  knights,  to  whom  the  heat  was  very  oppressive. 

The  battle  was  begun  by  the  Swiss,  who,  on  rising 
from  their  knees,  flung  themselves  with  impetuous 
valor  on  the  dense  line  of  spears  that  confronted 
them.  Their  courage  and  fury  were  in  vain.  Not 
a  man  in  the  Austrian  line  wavered.  They  stood 
like  a  rock  against  which  the  waves  of  the  Swiss 
dashed  only  to  be  hurled  back  in  death.  The  men 
of  Lucerne,  in  particular,  fought  with  an  almost 
blind  rage,  seeking  to  force  a  path  through  that 
steel-pointed  forest  of  spears,  and  falling  rapidly 
before  the  triumphant  foe. 

Numbers  of  the  mountaineers  lay  dead  or  wounded. 
The  line  of  spears  seemed  impenetrable.  The  Swiss 
began  to  waver.  The  enemy,  seeing  this,  advanced 
the  flanks  of  his  line  so  as  to  form  a  half-moon  shape, 
with  the  purpose  of  enclosing  the  small  body  of 
Swiss  within  a  circle  of  spears.  It  looked  for  the 
moment  as  if  the  struggle  were  at  an  end,  the  moun- 
taineers foiled  and  defeated,  the  fetters  again  ready 
to  be  locked  upon  the  limbs  of  free  Switzerland. 

But  such  was  not  to  be.  There  was  a  man  in  that 
small  band  of  patriots  who  had  the  courage  to  ac- 
cept certain  death  for  his  country,  one  of  those  rare 
souls  who  appear  from  time  to  time  in  the  centuries 


<§t&-T"'  - 


STATUE  OF  ARNOLD  WINKELREID. 


SEMPACH   AND   ARNOLD   WINKELRIED.  187 

and  win  undying  fame  by  an  act  of  self-martyrdom. 
Arnold  of  Winkelried  was  his  name,  a  name  which 
history  is  not  likely  soon  to  forget,  for  by  an  im- 
pulse of  the  noblest  devotion  this  brave  patriot  saved 
the  liberties  of  his  native  land. 

Seeing  that  there  was  but  one  hope  for  the  Swiss, 
and  that  death  must  be  the  lot  of  him  who  gave  them 
that  hope,  he  exclaimed  to  his  comrades,  in  a  voice 
of  thunder, — 

"  Faithful  and  beloved  confederates,  I  will  open  a 
passage  to  freedom  and  victory !  Protect  my  wife 
and  children !" 

With  these  words,  he  rushed  from  his  ranks,  flung 
himself  upon  the  enemy's  steel-pointed  line,  and 
seized  with  his  extended  arms  as  many  of  the  hostile 
spears  as  he  was  able  to  grasp,  burying  them  in  his 
body,  and  sinking  dead  to  the  ground. 

His  comrades  lost  not  a  second  in  availing  them- 
selves of  this  act  of  heroic  devotion.  Darting  for- 
ward, they  rushed  over  the  body  of  the  martyr  to 
liberty  into  the  breach  he  had  made,  forced  others  of 
the  spears  aside,  and  for  the  first  time  since  the  fray 
began  reached  the  Austrians  with  their  weapons. 

A  hasty  and  ineffective  effort  was  made  to  close 
the  breach.  It  only  added  to  the  confusion  which 
the  sudden  assault  had  caused.  The  line  of  hurrying 
knights  became  crowded  and  disordered.  The  furious 
Swiss  broke  through  in  increasing  numbers.  Over- 
come with  the  heat,  many  of  the  knights  fell  from 
exhaustion,  and  died  without  a  wound,  suffocated  in 
their  armor.  Others  fell  below  the  blows  of  the 
Swiss.     The  line  of  spears,  so  recently  intact,  was 


188  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

now  broken  and  pierced  at  a  dozen  points,  and  the 
revengeful  mountaineers  were  dealing  death  upon 
their  terrified  and  feebly-resisting  foes. 

The  chief  banner  of  the  host  had  twice  sunk  and 
been  raised  again,  and  was  drooping  a  third  time, 
when  Ulric,  a  knight  of  Aarburg,  seized  and  lifted 
it,  defending  it  desperately  till  a  mortal  blow  laid  him 
low. 

"  Save  Austria !  rescue  I"  he  faltered  with  his  dying 
breath. 

Duke  Leopold,  who  was  pushing  through  the 
confused  throng,  heard  him  and  caught  the  banner 
from  his  dying  hand.  Again  it  waved  aloft,  but  now 
crimsoned  with  the  blood  of  its  defender. 

The  Swiss,  determined  to  capture  it,  pressed  upon 
its  princely  bearer,  surrounded  him,  cut  down  on 
every  side  the  warriors  who  sought  to  defend  him 
and  the  standard. 

"Since  so  many  nobles  and  knights  have  ended 
their  da}Ts  in  my  cause,  let  me  honorably  follow 
them,"  cried  the  despairing  duke,  and  in  a  moment 
he  rushed  into  the  midst  of  the  hostile  ranks,  vanish- 
ing from  the  eyes  of  his  attendants.  Blows  rained 
on  his  iron  mail.  In  the  pressure  of  the  crowd  he 
fell  to  the  earth.  "While  seeking  to  raise  himself 
again  in  his  heavy  armor,  he  cried,  in  his  helpless 
plight,  to  a  Swiss  soldier,  who  had  approached  him 
with  raised  weapon, — 

"  I  am  the  Prince  of  Austria." 

The  man  either  heard  not  his  words,  or  took  no 
heed  of  princes.  The  weapon  descended  with  a 
mortal  blow.     Duke  Leopold  of  Austria  was  dead. 


SEMPACH  AND  ARNOLD  WINKELRIED.      189 

The  body  of  the  slain  duke  was  found  by  a  knight, 
Martin  Malterer,  who  bore  the  banner  of  Freiburg. 
On  recognizing  him,  he  stood  like  one  petrified,  let 
the  banner  fall  from  his  hand,  and  then  threw  him- 
self on  the  body  of  the  prince,  that  it  might  not  be 
trampled  under  foot  by  the  contending  forces.  In 
this  position  he  soon  received  his  own  death-wound. 

By  this  time  the  state  of  the  Austrians  was  pitia- 
ble. The  signal  for  retreat  was  given,  and  in  utter 
terror  and  dismay  they  fled  for  their  horses.  Alas, 
too  late !  The  attendants,  seeing  the  condition  of 
their  masters,  and  filled  with  equal  terror,  had 
mounted  the  horses,  and  were  already  in  full  flight. 

Nothing  remained  for  the  knights,  oppressed  with 
their  heavy  armor,  exhausted  with  thirst  and  fatigue, 
half  suffocated  with  the  scorching  heat,  assailed  on 
every  side  by  the  light-armed  and  nimble  Swiss,  but 
to  sell  their  lives  as  dearly  as  possible.  In  a  short 
time  more  all  was  at  an  end.  The  last  of  the  Aus- 
trians fell.  On  that  fatal  field  there  had  met  their 
death,  at  the  hands  of  the  small  body  of  Swiss,  no 
less  than  six  hundred  and  fifty-six  knights,  barons, 
and  counts,  together  with  thousands  of  their  men- 
at-arms. 

Thus  ended  the  battle  of  Sempach,  with  its  signal 
victory  to  the  Swiss,  one  of  the  most  striking  which 
history  records,  if  we  consider  the  great  dispropor- 
tion in  numbers  and  in  warlike  experience  and  mili- 
tary equipment  of  the  combatants.  It  secured  to 
Switzerland  the  liberty  for  which  they  had  so  val- 
iantly struck  at  Morgarten  seventy  years  before. 

But  all  Switzerland  was  not  yet  free,  and  more 


190  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

blows  were  needed  to  win  its  full  liberty.  The  battle 
of  Nsefels,  in  1388,  added  to  the  width  of  the  free  zone. 
In  this  the  peasants  of  Glarus  rolled  stones  on  the 
Austrian  squadrons,  and  set  fire  to  the  bridges  over 
which  they  fled,  two  thousand  five  hundred  of  the 
enemy,  including  a  great  number  of  nobles,  being 
slain.  In  the  same  year  the  peasants  of  Yalais  de- 
feated the  Earl  of  Savoy  at  Visp,  putting  four  thou- 
sand of  his  men  to  the  sword. 

An  interesting  story  appertains  to  the  effort  of 
the  citizens  of  St.  Gall  to  regain  their  liberty. 
Here  was  a  stately  monastery,  the  seat  of  a  proud 
abbot,  replacing  the  little  hut  formerly  inhabited  by 
St.  Gall.  Cuneo  was  the  name  of  this  ecclesiastic, 
who  ruled  the  surrounding  Alpine  country  with  an 
iron  hand,  and  permitted  his  governors  to  oppress 
the  people  at  their  will.  One  of  these,  the  governor 
of  Appenzell,  is  said  to  have  had  a  corpse  disinterred 
for  the  sake  of  its  good  coat.  Another,  the  governor 
of  Schwendi,  hunted  with  dogs  the  peasants  who 
could  not  pay  their  dues.  The  story  goes  that,  one 
day,  meeting  a  miller's  son,  he  asked  him  what  his 
father  and  mother  were  doing. 

"  My  father  bakes  bread  that  is  already  eaten," 
said  the  boy ;  "  my  mother  adds  bad  to  worse, — that 
is,  my  father  lives  on  his  debts,  my  mother  mends 
rags  with  rags." 

"  Why  so  ?"  asked  the  governor. 

•;  Because  you  take  all  our  money  from  us,"  an- 
swered the  boy. 

The  governor,  angry  at  this,  set  his  dogs  on  the 
boy,  whereupon   the  lad   raised  a  milk-can,  under 


SEMPACH   AND   ARNOLD    WINKELRIED.  191 

which  he  had  hidden  a  cat,  which  flew  out  and  drew 
off  the  dogs. 

The  governor,  now  furious,  pursued  the  boy  into 
his  father's  house,  and  struck  him  dead  with  his 
sword. 

The  story  continues  that  the  peasantry,  roused  by 
the  cries  of  the  father,  and  learning  of  the  governor's 
cruelty,  broke  into  insurrection,  attacked  the  castle 
of  Schwendi,  and  burnt  it  to  the  ground.  The  gov- 
ernor escaped.  All  the  castles  in  the  vicinity  were 
similarly  dealt  with,  and  the  whole  district  set  free. 

Shortly  afterwards,  in  1400,  the  citizens  of  St. 
Gall  joined  with  the  peasants  against  their  abbot. 
The  Swabian  cities  were  asked  to  decide  the  dispute, 
and  decided  that  cities  could  only  confederate  with 
cities,  not  with  peasants,  thus  leaving  the  Appenzel 
lers  to  their  fate.  At  this  decision  the  herdsmen 
rose  in  arms,  defeated  abbot  and  citizens  both,  and 
set  their  country  free,  all  the  neighboring  peasantry 
joining  their  band  of  liberty.  In  1407  the  people  of 
this  region  joined  the  confederation,  which  now  in- 
cluded nearly  the  whole  of  the  Alpine  country,  and 
was  strong  enough  to  maintain  its  liberty  for  centu- 
ries thereafter.  It  was  not  again  subdued  until  the 
kgions  of  Napoleon  trod  over  its  mountain  paths. 


d.4 


i/SKA,   THE  BLIND    WARRIOR. 


Sigismund,  Emperor  of  Germany,  had  sworn  to 
put  an  end  to  the  Hussite  rebellion  in  Bohemia,  and 
to  punish  the  rebels  in  a  way  that  would  make  all 
future  rebels  tremble.  But  Sigismund  was  pursuing 
the  old  policy  of  cooking  the  hare  before  it  was 
caught.  He  forgot  that  the  indomitable  John  Ziska 
and  the  iron-flailed  peasantry  stood  between  him  and 
his  vow.  He  had  first  to  conquer  the  reformers  be- 
fore he  could  punish  them,  and  this  was  to  prove  no 
easy  task. 

The  dreadful  work  of  religious  war  began  with  the 
burning  of  Hussite  preachers  who  had  ventured  from 
Bohemia  into  Germany.  This  was  an  argument  which 
Ziska  thoroughly  understood,  and  he  retorted  by  de- 
stroying the  Bohemian  monasteries,  and  burning  the 
priests  alive  in  barrels  of  pitch.  "  They  are  singing 
my  sister's  wedding  song,"  exclaimed  the  grim  bar- 
barian, on  hearing  their  cries  of  torture.  Queen 
Sophia,  widow  of  Wenceslas,  the  late  king,  who  had 
garrisoned  all  the  royal  castles,  now  sent  a  strong 
body  of  troops  against  the  reformers.  The  army 
came  up  with  the  multitude,  which  was  largely  made 
up  of  women  and  children,  on  the  open  plain  near 
Pilsen.  The  cavalry  charged  upon  the  seemingly 
192 


ZISKA,   THE   BLIND    WARRIOB.  193 

helpless  mob.  But  Ziska  was  equal  to  the  occasion. 
He  ordered  the  women  to  strew  the  ground  with 
their  gowns  and  veils,  and  the  horses'  feet  becoming 
entangled  in  these,  numbers  of  the  riders  were 
thrown,  and  the  trim  lines  of  the  troops  broken. 

Seeing  the  confusion  into  which  they  had  been 
thrown,  Ziska  gave  the  order  to  charge,  and  in  a 
short  time  the  army  that  was  to  defeat  him  was 
flying  in  a  panic  across  the  plain,  a  broken  and 
beaten  mob.  Another  army  marched  against  him, 
and  was  similarly  defeated;  and  the  citizens  of 
Prague,  finding  that  no  satisfactory  terms  could  be 
made  with  the  emperor,  recalled  Ziska,  and  entered 
into  alliance  with  him.  The  one-eyed  patriot  was 
now  lord  of  the  land,  all  Bohemia  being  at  his  beck 
and  call. 

Meanwhile  Sigismund,  the  emperor,  was  slowly 
gathering  his  forces  to  invade  the  rebellious  land. 
The  reign  of  cruelty  continued,  each  side  treating 
its  prisoners  barbarously.  The  Imperialists  branded 
theirs  with  a  cup,  the  Hussites  theirs  with  a  cross, 
on  their  foreheads.  The  citizens  of  Breslau  joined 
those  of  Prague,  and  emulated  them  by  flinging 
their  councillors  out  of  the  town-house  windows. 
In  return  the  German  miners  of  Kuttenberg  threw 
sixteen  hundred  Hussites  down  the  mines.  Such  is 
religious  war,  the  very  climax  of  cruelty. 

In  June,  1420,  the  threatened  invasion  came. 
Sigismund  led  an  army,  one  hundred  thousand 
strong,  into  the  revolted  land,  fulminating  vengeance 
as  he  marched.  He  reached  Prague  and  entered 
the  castle  of  Wisherad%  which  commanded  it.  Ziska 
iv.— i       n  17 


194  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

fortified  the  mountain  of  Witlow  (now  called  Ziska- 
berg),  which  also  commanded  the  city.  Sigismund, 
finding  that  he  had  been  outgeneralled,  and  that 
his  opponent  held  the  controlling  position,  waited 
and  temporized,  amusing  himself  meanwhile  by  as- 
suming the  crown  of  Bohemia,  and  sowing  dissension 
in  his  army  by  paying  the  Slavonian  and  Hungarian 
troops  with  the  jewels  taken  from  the  royal  palaces 
and  the  churches,  while  leaving  the  Germans  unpaid. 
The  Germans,  furious,  marched  away.  The  emperor 
was  obliged  to  follow.  The  ostentatious  invasion  was 
at  an  end,  and  scarcely  a  blow  had  been  struck. 

But  Sigismund  had  no  sooner  gone  than  trouble 
arose  in  Prague.  The  citizens,  the  nobility,  and 
Ziska's  followers  were  all  at  odds.  The  Taborites — 
those  strict  republicans  and  religious  reformers  who 
had  made  Mount  Tabor  their  head-quarters — were 
in  power,  and  ruled  the  city  with  a  rod  of  iron,  de- 
stroying all  the  remaining  splendor  of  the  churches 
and  sternly  prohibiting  every  display  of  ostentation 
by  the  people.  Death  was  named  as  the  punishment 
for  such  venial  faults  as  dancing,  gambling,  or  the 
wearing  of  rich  attire.  The  wine-cellars  were  rigidly 
closed.  Church  property  was  declared  public  prop- 
erty, and  it  looked  as  if  private  wealth  would  soon 
be  similarly  viewed.  The  peasants  declared  that  it 
was  their  mission  to  exterminate  sin  from  the  earth. 

This  tyranny  so  incensed  the  nobles  and  citizens 
that  they  rose  in  self-defence,  and  Ziska,  finding  that 
Prague  had  grown  too  hot  to  hold  him,  deemed  it 
prudent  to  lead  his  men  away.  Sigismund  took  im- 
mediate advantage  of  the  opportunity  by  marching 


ZISKA,   THE   BLIND   WARRIOR.  195 

on  Prague.  But,  quick  as  he  was,  there  were  others 
quicker.  The  more  moderate  section  of  the  reform- 
ers, the  so-called  Horebites, — from  Mount  Horeb, 
another  place  of  assemblage, — entered  the  city,  led 
by  Hussinez,  Huss's  former  lord,  and  laid  siege  to 
the  royal  fortress,  the  Wisherad.  Sigismund  at- 
tempted to  surprise  him,  but  met  with  so  severe  a 
repulse  that  he  fled  into  Hungary,  and  the  Wisherad 
was  forced  to  capitulate,  this  ancient  palace  and  its 
church,  both  splendid  works  of  art,  being  destroyed. 
Step  by  step  the  art  and  splendor  of  Bohemia  were 
vanishing  in  this  despotic  struggle  between  heresy 
and  the  papacy. 

As  the  war  went  on,  Ziska,  its  controlling  spirit, 
grew  steadily  more  abhorrent  of  privilege  and  dis- 
tinction, more  bitterly  fanatical.  The  ancient  church, 
royalty,  nobility,  all  excited  his  wrath.  He  was  re- 
publican, socialist,  almost  anarchist  in  his  views. 
His  idea  of  perfection  lay  in  a  fraternity  composed 
of  the  children  of  God,  while  he  trusted  to  the  strokes 
of  the  iron  flail  to  bear  down  all  opposition  to  his 
theory  of  society.  The  city  of  Prachaticz  treated 
him  with  mockery,  and  was  burnt  to  the  ground, 
with  all  its  inhabitants.  The  Bishop  of  Nicopolis 
fell  into  his  hands,  and  was  flung  into  the  river. 
As  time  went  on,  his  war  of  extermination  against 
sinners — that  is,  all  who  refused  to  join  his  banner 
— grew  more  cruel  and  unrelenting.  Each  city  that 
resisted  was  stormed  and  ruined,  its  inhabitants 
slaughtered,  its  priests  burned.  Hussite  virtue  had 
degenerated  into  tyranny  of  the  worst  type.  Yet, 
while  thus  fanatical  himself,  Ziska  would  not  per- 


196  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

mit  his  followers  to  indulge  in  insane  excesses  of  re- 
ligious zeal.  A  party  arose  which  claimed  that  the 
millennium  was  at  hand,  and  that  it  was  their  duty 
to  anticipate  the  coming  of  the  innocence  of  Paradise, 
by  going  naked,  like  Adam  and  Eve.  These  Adam- 
ites committed  the  maddest  excesses,  but  found  a 
stern  enemy  in  Ziska,  who  put  them  down  with  an 
unsparing  hand. 

In  1421  Sigismund  again  roused  himself  to  activity, 
incensed  by  the  Hussite  defiance  of  his  authority.  He 
incited  the  Silesians  to  invade  Bohemia,  and  an  army 
of  twenty  thousand  poured  into  the  land,  killing  all 
before  them, — men,  women,  and  children.  Yet  such 
was  the  terror  that  the  very  name  of  Ziska  now 
excited,  that  the  mere  rumor  of  his  approach  sent 
these  invaders  flying  across  the  borders. 

But,  in  the  midst  of  his  career  of  triumph,  an  acci- 
dent came  to  the  Bohemian  leader  which  would  have 
incapacitated  any  less  resolute  man  from  military 
activity.  During  the  siege  of  the  castle  of  Eaby  a 
splinter  struck  his  one  useful  eye  and  completely 
deprived  him  of  sight.  It  did  not  deprive  him  of 
power  and  energy.  Most  men,  under  such  circum- 
stances, would  have  retired  from  army  leadership, 
but  John  Ziska  was  not  of  that  calibre.  He  knew 
Bohemia  so  thoroughly  that  the  whole  land  lay  ac- 
curately mapped  out  in  his  mind.  He  continued  to 
lead  his  army,  to  marshal  his  men  in  battle  array,  to 
command  them  in  the  field  and  the  siege,  despite  his 
blindness,  always  riding  in  a  carriage,  close  to  the 
great  standard,  and  keeping  in  immediate  touch 
with  all  the  movements  .of  the  war.     ... 


ZTSKA.    THE   BLIND   WARRIOR.  197 

Blind  as  he  was,  he  increased  rather  than  dimin- 
ished the  severity  of  his  discipline,  and  insisted  on 
rigid  obedience  to  his  commands.  As  an  instance 
of  this  we  are  told  that,  on  one  occasion,  having 
compelled  his  troops  to  march  day  and  night,  as  was 
his  custom,  they  murmured  and  said, — 

"  Day  and  night  are  the  same  to  you,  as  you  can- 
not see ;  but  they  are  not  the  same  to  us." 

"How!"  he  cried.  "You  cannot  see!  Well,  set 
fire  to  a  couple  of  villages." 

The  blind  warrior  was  soon  to  have  others  to  deal 
with  than  his  Bohemian  foes.  Sigismund  had  sent 
forward  another  army,  which,  in  September,  1421,  in- 
vaded the  country.  It  was  driven  out  by  the  mere 
rumor  of  Ziska's  approach,  the  soldiers  flying  in 
haste  on  the  vague  report  of  his  coming.  But  in 
November  the  emperor  himself  came,  leading  a  horde 
of  eighty  thousand  Hungarians,  Servians,  and  others, 
savage  fellows,  whose  approach  filled  the  moderate 
party  of  the  Bohemians  with  terror.  Ziska's  men 
had  such  confidence  in  their  blind  chief  as  to  be  be- 
yond terror.  They  were  surrounded  by  the  enemy, 
and  enclosed  in  what  seemed  a  trap.  But  under 
Siska's  orders  they  made  a  night  attack  on  the  foe, 
broke  through  their  lines,  and,  to  the  emperor's  dis- 
comfiture, were  once  more  free. 

On  New  Year's  day,  1422,  the  two  armies  came 
face  to  face  near  Zollin.  Ziska  drew  up  his  men  in 
battle  array  and  confidently  awaited  the  attack  of 
the  enemy.  But  the  inflexible  attitude  of  his  men, 
the  terror  of  his  name,  or  one  of  those  inexplicable 
influences  which  sometimes  affect  armies,  filled  the 
17* 


198  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Hungarians  with  a  sudden  panic,  and  they  vanished 
from  the  front  of  the  Bohemians  without  a  blow. 
Once  more  the  emperor  and  the  army  which  he  had 
led  into  the  country  with  such  high  confidence  of 
success  were  in  shameful  flight,  and  the  terrible  ex- 
ample which  he  had  vowed  to  make  of  Bohemia  was 
still  unaccomplished. 

The  blind  chief  vigorously  and  relentlessly  pur- 
sued, overtaking  the  fugitives  on  January  8  near 
Deutschbrod.  Terrified  at  his  approach,  they  sought 
to  escape  by  crossing  the  stream  at  that  place  on  the 
ice.  The  ice  gave  way,  and  numbers  of  them  were 
drowned.  Deutschbrod  was  burned  and  its  inhabi- 
tants slaughtered  in  Ziska's  cruel  fashion. 

This  repulse  put  an  end  to  invasions  of  Bohemia 
while  Ziska  lived.  There  were  intestine  disturbances 
which  needed  to  be  quelled,  and  then  the  army  of  the 
reformers  was  led  beyond  the  boundaries  of  the  coun- 
try and  assailed  the  imperial  dominions,  but  the  em- 
peror held  aloof.  He  had  had  enough  of  the  blind 
terror  of  Bohemia,  the  indomitable  Ziska  and  his 
iron-flailed  peasants.  New  outbreaks  disturbed  Bo- 
hemia. Ambitious  nobles  aspired  to  the  kingship, 
but  their  eflbrts  were  vain.  The  army  of  the  iron 
flail  quickly  put  an  end  to  all  such  hopes. 

In  1423  Ziska  invaded  Moravia  and  Austria,  to 
keep  his  troops  employed,  and  lost  severely  in  doing 
bo.  In  1424  his  enemies  at  home  again  made  head 
against  him,  led  an  army  into  the  field,  and  pursued 
him  to  Kuttenberg.  Here  he  ordered  his  men  to 
feign  a  retreat,  then,  while  the  foe  were  trium- 
phantly  advancing,   he   suddenly   turned,   had    his 


ZISKA,    THE   BLIND   WARRIOR.  199 

battle-chariot  driven  furiously  down  the  mountain- 
side upon  their  lines,  and  during  the  confusion  thus 
caused  ordered  an  attack  in  force.  The  enemy  were 
repulsed,  their  artillery  was  captured,  and  Kutten- 
berg  set  in  flames,  as  Ziska's  signal  of  triumph. 

Shortly  afterwards,  his  enemies  at  home  being 
thoroughly  beaten,  the  indomitable  blind  chief 
marched  upon  Prague,  the  head-quarters  of  his  foes, 
and  threatened  to  burn  this  city  to  the  ground.  He 
might  have  done  so,  too,  but  for  his  own  men,  who 
broke  into  sedition  at  the  threat. 

Procop,  Ziska's  bravest  captain,  advised  peace,  to 
put  an  end  to  the  disasters  of  civil  war.  His  advice 
was  everywhere  re-echoed,  the  demand  for  peace 
seemed  unanimous,  Ziska  alone  opposing  it.  Mount- 
ing a  cask,  and  facing  his  discontented  followers,  he 
exclaimed, — 

"Fear  internal  more  than  external  foes.  It  is 
easier  for  a  few,  when  united,  to  conquer,  than  for 
many,  when  disunited.  Snares  are  laid  for  you  ;  you 
will  be  entrapped,  but  it  will  not  be  my  fault." 

Despite  his  harangue,  however,  peace  was  con- 
cluded between  the  contending  factions,  and  a  large 
monument  raised  in  commemoration  thereof,  both 
parties  heaping  up  stones.  Ziska  entered  the  city 
in  solemn  procession,  and  was  met  with  respect  and 
admiration  by  the  citizens.  Prince  Coribut,  the 
leader  of  the  opposite  party  and  the  aspirant  to  the 
crown,  came  to  meet  him,  embraced  him,  and  called 
him  father.  The  triumph  of  the  blind  chief  over  his 
internal  foes  was  complete. 

It  seemed  equally  complete  over  his  external  foes. 


200  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Sigismund,  unable  to  conquer  him  by  force  of  arms, 
now  sought  to  mollify  him  by  offers  of  peace,  and 
entered  into  negotiations  with  the  stern  old  warrior. 
But  Ziska  was  not  to  be  placated.  He  could  not 
trust  the  man  who  had  broken  his  plighted  word 
and  burned  John  Hues,  and  he  remained  immovable 
in  his  hostility  to  Germany.  Planning  a  fresh 
attack  on  Moravia,  he  began  his  march  thither.  But 
now  he  met  a  conquering  enemy  against  whose  arms 
there  was  no  defence.  Death  encountered  him  on 
the  route,  and  carried  him  off  October  12,  1424. 

Thus  ends  the  story  of  an  extraordinary  man,  and 
the  history  of  a  series  of  remarkable  events.  Of  all 
the  peasant  outbreaks,  of  which  there  were  so  many 
during  the  mediaeval  period,  the  Bohemian  was  the 
only  one — if  we  except  the  Swiss  struggle  for  liberty 
— that  attained  measurable  success.  This  was  due  in 
part  to  the  fact  that  it  was  a  religious  instead  of  an 
industrial  revolt,  and  thus  did  not  divide  the  country 
into  sharp  ranks  of  rich  and  poor ;  and  in  greater 
part  to  the  fact  that  it  had  an  able  leader,  one  of 
those  men  of  genius  who  seem  born  for  great  occa- 
sions. John  Ziska,  the  blind  warrior,  leading  his 
army  to  victory  after  victory,  stands  alone  in  the 
gallery  of  history.  There  were  none  like  him,  before 
or  after. 

He  is  pictured  as  a  short,  broad-shouldered  man, 
with  a  large,  round,  and  bald  head.  His  forehead 
was  deeply  furrowed,  and  he  wore  a  long  moustache 
of  a  fiery  red  hue.  This,  with  his  blind  eye  and  his 
final  complete  blindness,  yields  a  well-defined  image 
of  the  man,  that  fanatical,  remorseless,  indomitable, 


ZISKA,    THE   BLIND   WARRIOR.  201 

and  unconquerable  avenger  of  the  martyred  Hubs, 
the  first  successful  opponent  of  the  doctrines  of  the 
church  of  Borne  whom  history  records. 

The  conclusion  of  the  story  of  the  Hussites  may 
be  briefly  given.  For  years  they  held  their  own. 
under  two  leaders,  known  as  Procop  Holy  and  Pro- 
cop  the  Little,  defying  the  emperor,  and  at  times 
invading  the  empire.  The  pope  preached  a  crusade 
against  them,  but  the  army  of  invasion  was  defeated, 
and  Silesia  and  Austria  were  invaded  in  reprisal  by 
Procop  Holy. 

Seven  years  after  the  death  of  Ziska  an  army  of 
invasion  again  entered  Bohemia,  so  strong  in  num- 
bers that  it  seemed  as  if  that  war-drenched  land 
must  fall  before  it.  In  its  ranks  were  one  hundred 
and  thirty  thousand  men,  led  by  Frederick  of  Bran- 
denburg. Their  purposes  were  seen  in  their  actions. 
Every  village  reached  was  burned,  till  two  hundred 
had  been  given  to  the  flames.  Horrible  excesses 
were  committed.  __  On  August  14,  1431,  the  two 
armies,  the  Hussite  and  the  Imperialist,  came  face  to 
face  near  Tauss.  The  disproportion  in  numbers  was 
enormous,  and  it  looked  as  if  the  small  force  of  Bo- 
hemians would  be  swallowed  up  in  the  multitude  of 
their  foes.  But  barely  was  the  Hussite  banner  seen 
in  the  distance  when  the  old  story  was  told  over 
again,  the  Germans  broke  into  sudden  panic,  and 
fled  en  masse  from  the  field.  The  Bavarians  were 
the  first  to  fly,  and  all  the  rest  speedily  followed. 
Frederick  of  Brandenburg  and  his  troops  took  refuge 
in  a  wood.  The  Cardinal  Julian,  who  had  preached 
a  crusade  against  Bohemia,  succeeded  for  a  time  in 


202  HISTORICAL    TALES. 

rallying  the  fugitives,  but  at  the  first  onset  of  the 
Hussites  they  again  took  to  flight,  suffering  them- 
selves to  be  slaughtered  without  resistance.  The 
munitions  of  war  were  abandoned  to  the  foe,  in 
eluding  one  hundred  and  fifty  cannon. 

It  was  an  extraordinary  affair,  but  in  truth  the 
flight  was  less  due  to  terror  than  to  disinclination  of 
the  German  soldiers  to  fight  the  Hussites,  whose 
cause  they  deemed  to  be  just  and  glorious,  and  the 
influence  of  whose  opinions  had  spread  far  beyond 
the  Bohemian  border.  Eome  was  losing  its  hold 
over  the  mind  of  northern  Europe  outside  the  limits 
of  the  land  of  Huss  and  Ziska. 

Negotiations  for  peace  followed.  The  Bohemians 
were  invited  to  Basle,  being  granted  a  safe-conduct, 
and  promised  free  exercise  of  their  religion  coming 
and  going,  while  no  words  of  ridicule  or  reproach 
were  to  be  permitted.  On  January  9,  1433,  three 
hundred  Bohemians,  mounted  on  horseback,  entered 
Basle,  accompanied  by  an  immense  multitude.  It 
was  a  very  different  entrance  from  that  of  Huss  to 
Constance,  nearly  twenty  years  before,  and  was  to 
have  a  very  different  termination.  Procop  Holy 
headed  the  procession,  accompanied  by  others  of  the 
Bohemian  leaders.  A  signal  triumph  had  come  to 
the  party  of  religious  reform,  after  twenty  years  of 
struggle. 

For  fifty  days  the  negotiations  continued.  Neither 
side  would  yield.  In  the  end,  the  Bohemians,  weary 
of  the  protracted  and  fruitless  debate,  took  to  their 
horses  again,  and  set  out  homewards.  This  brought 
their  enemies  to  terms.      An  embassy  was  hastily 


203 

sent  after  them,  and  all  their  demands  were  conceded, 
though  with  certain  reservations  that  might  prove 
perilous  in  the  future.  They  went  home  triumphant, 
having  won  freedom  of  religious  worship  according 
to  their  own  ideas  of  right  and  truth. 

They  had  not  long  reached  home  when  dissensions 
again  broke  out.  The  emperor  took  advantage 
of  them,  accepted  the  crown  of  Bohemia,  entered 
Prague,  and  at  once  reinstated  the  Catholic  religion. 
The  fanatics  flew  to  arms,  but  after  a  desperate 
struggle  were  annihilated.  The  Bohemian  reform 
was  at  an  end.  In  the  following  year  the  emperor 
Sigismund  died,  having  lived  just  long  enough  to 
win  success  in  his  long  conflict.  The  martyrdom  of 
Huss,  the  valor  and  zeal  of  Ziska,  appeared  to  have 
been  in  vain.  Yet  they  were  not  so,  for  the  seeds 
of  liberal  thought  had  been  sown  far  and  wide  dur- 
ing the  struggle,  and  in  the  century  to  come  they 
would  grow  into  a  great  religious  reformation,  a 
permanent  triumph  of  freedom  of  thought. 


THE  SIEGE   OF  BELGRADE. 

The  empire  of  Eome  finally  reached  its  end,  not 
k  the  fifth  century,  as  ordinarily  considered,  but  in 
the  fifteenth;  not  at  Eome,  but  at  Constantinople, 
where  the  Eastern  empire  survived  the  Western  for 
a  thousand  years.  At  length,  in  1453,  the  Turks 
captured  Constantinople,  set  a  broad  foot  upon  the 
degenerate  empire  of  the  East,  and  crushed  out  the 
last  feeble  remnants  of  life  left  in  the  pygmy  suc- 
cessor of  the  colossus  of  the  past. 

And  now  Europe,  which  had  looked  on  with  clasped 
hands  while  the  Turks  swept  over  the  Bosphorus 
and  captured  Constantinople,  suddenly  awoke  to  the 
peril  of  its  situation.  A  blow  in  time  might  have 
saved  the  Greek  empire.  The  blow  had  not  been 
struck,  and  now  Europe  had  itself  to  save.  Terror 
seized  upon  the  nations  which  had  let  their  petty 
intrigues  stand  in  the  way  of  that  broad  policy  in 
which  safety  lay,  for  they  could  not  forget  past  in- 
stances of  Asiatic  invasion.  The  frightful  ravages 
wrought  by  the  Huns  and  the  Avars  were  far  in  the 
past,  but  no  long  time  had  elapsed  since  the  coming 
of  the  Magyars  and  the  Mongols,  and  now  here  was 
another  of  those  hordes  of  murderous  barbarians, 
hanging  like  a  cloud  of  war  on  the  eastern  skirt  of 
204 


THE   SIEGE   OF   BELGRADE.  205 

Europe,  and  threatening  to  rain  death  and  ruin  upon 
the  land.  The  dread  of  the  nations  was  not  amiss. 
They  had  neglected  to  strengthen  the  eastern  barrier 
to  the  Turkish  avalanche.  Now  it  threatened  their 
very  doors,  and  they  must  meet  it  at  home. 

The  Turks  were  not  long  in  making  their  purpose 
evident.  Within  two  years  after  the  fall  of  Constan- 
tinople they  were  on  the  march  again,  and  had  laid 
siege  to  Belgrade,  the  first  obstacle  in  their  pathway 
to  universal  conquest.  The  Turkish  cannons  were 
thundering  at  the  doors  of  Europe.  Belgrade  fallen, 
Vienna  would  come  next,  and  the  march  of  the  bar- 
barians might  only  end  at  the  sea. 

And  yet,  despite  their  danger,  the  people  of  Ger- 
many remained  supine.  Hungary  had  valiantly 
defended  itself  against  the  Turks  ten  years  before, 
without  aid  from  the  German  empire.  It  looked 
now  as  if  Belgrade  might  be  left  to  its  fate.  The 
brave  John  Hunyades  and  his  faithful  Hungarians 
were  the  only  bulwarks  of  Europe  against  the  foe, 
for  the  people  seemed  incapable  of  seeing  a  danger 
a  thousand  miles  away.  The  pope  and  his  legate 
John  Capistrano,  general  of  the  Capuchins,  were  the 
only  aids  to  the  valiant  Hunyades  in  his  vigorous 
defence.  They  preached  a  crusade,  but  with  little 
success.  Capistrano  traversed  Germany,  eloquently 
calling  the  people  to  arms  against  the  barbarians. 
The  result  was  similar  to  that  on  previous  occasions, 
the  real  offenders  were  neglected,  the  innocent  suf- 
fered. The  people,  instead  of  arming  against  the 
Turks,  turned  against  the  Jews,  and  murdered  them 
by  thousands.  Whatever  happened  in  Europe^ — a 
18 


206  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

plague,  an  invasion,  a  famine,  a  financial  strait, — that 
unhappy  people  were  in  some  way  held  responsible, 
and  mediaeval  Europe  seemed  to  think  it  could,  at 
any  time,  check  the  frightful  career  of  a  comet  or 
ward  off  pestilence  by  slaughtering  a  few  thousands 
of  Jews.  It  cannot  be  said  that  it  worked  well  on 
this  occasion;  the  Jews  died,  but  the  Turks  sur 
rounded  Belgrade  still. 

Capistrano  found  no  military  ardor  in  Germany, 
in  princes  or  people.  The  princes  contented  them- 
selves with  ordering  prayers  and  ringing  the  Turk- 
ish bells,  as  they  were  called.  The  people  were  as 
supine  as  their  princes.  He  did,  however,  succeed, 
by  the  aid  of  his  earnest  eloquence,  in  gathering 
a  force  of  a  few  thousands  of  peasants,  priests, 
scholars,  and  the  like ;  a  motley  host  who  were  chiefly 
armed  with  iron  flails  and  pitchforks,  but  who  fol- 
lowed him  with  an  enthusiasm  equal  to  his  own. 
With  this  shadow  of  an  army  he  joined  Hunyades, 
and  the  combined  force  made  its  way  in  boats  down 
the  Danube  into  the  heart  of  Hungary,  and  ap- 
proached the  frontier  fortress  which  Mahomet  II. 
was  besieging  with  a  host  of  one  hundred  and  sixty 
thousand  men,  and  which  its  defender,  the  brother- 
in-law  of  John  Hunyades,  had  nearly  given  up  for 
lost. 

On  came  the  flotilla, — the  peasants  with  their  flails 
and  forks  and  Hun}-ades  with  his  trained  soldiers, — 
and  attacked  the  Turkish  fleet  with  such  furious 
energy  that  it  was  defeated  and  dispersed,  and  the 
allied  forces  made  their  way  into  the  beleaguered  city. 
Capistrano  and  his  followers  were  full  of  enthusiasm. 


THE   SIEGE   OF   BELGRADE.  207 

He  was  a  second  Peter  the  Hermit,  his  peasant  horde 
were  crusaders,  fierce  against  the  infidels,  disdaining 
death  in  God's  cause;  neither  leader  nor  followers 
had  a  grain  of  military  knowledge  or  experience, 
but  they  had,  what  is  sometimes  better,  courage  and 
enthusiasm. 

John  Hunyades  had  military  experience,  and 
looked  with  cold  disfavor  on  the  burning  and  blind 
zeal  of  his  new  recruits.  He  was  willing  that  they 
should  aid  him  in  repelling  the  furious  attacks  of 
the  Turks,  but  to  his  trained  eyes  an  attack  on  the 
well-intrenched  camp  of  the  enemy  would  have  been 
tjimple  madness,  and  he  sternly  forbade  any  such 
suicidal  course,  even  threatening  death  to  whoever 
should  attempt  it. 

In  truth,  his  caution  seemed  reasonable.  An  im- 
mense host  surrounded  the  city  on  the  land  side, 
and  had  done  so  on  the  water  side,  also,  until  the 
Christian  flotilla  had  sunk,  captured,  and  dispersed 
its  boats.  Far  as  the  eye  could  see,  the  gorgeously- 
embellished  tents  of  the  Turkish  army,  with  their 
gilded  crescents  glittering  in  the  sun,  filled  the  field 
of  view.  Cannon-mounted  earthworks  threatened 
the  walls  from  every  quarter.  Squadrons  of  steel- 
clad  horsemen  swept  the  field.  The  crowding  thou, 
sands  of  besiegers  pressed  the  city  day  and  night. 
Even  defence  seemed  useless.  Assault  on  such  a 
host  appeared  madness  to  experienced  eyes.  Hun- 
yades seemed  wise  in  his  stern  disapproval  of  such 
an  idea. 

Yet  military  knowledge  has  its  limitations,  when 
it  fails  to  take  into  account  the  power  of  enthusi- 


208  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

asm.  Blind  zeal  is  a  force  whose  possibilities  a 
general  does  not  always  estimate.  It  is  capable  of 
performing  miracles,  as  Hunyades  was  to  learn. 
His  orders,  his  threats  of  death,  had  no  restraining 
effect  on  the  minds  of  the  crusaders.  They  had 
come  to  save  Europe  from  the  Turks,  and  they  were 
not  to  be  stayed  by  orders  or  threats.  What  though 
the  enemy  greatly  outnumbered  them,  and  had  can- 
nons and  scimitars  against  their  pikes  and  flails,  had 
they  not  God  on  their  side,  and  should  God's  army 
pause  to  consider  numbers  and  cannon-balls  ?  They 
were  not  to  be  restrained  j  attack  they  would,  and 
attack  they  did. 

The  siege  had  made  great  progress.  The  rein- 
forcement had  come  barely  in  time.  The  walls  were 
crumbling  under  the  incessant  bombardment.  Con- 
vinced that  he  had  made  a  practicable  breach,  Ma- 
homet, the  sultan,  ordered  an  assault  in  force.  The 
Turks  advanced,  full  of  barbarian  courage,  climbed 
the  crumbled  walls,  and  broke,  as  they  supposed,  into 
the  town,  only  to  find  new  walls  frowning  before 
them.  The  vigorous  garrison  had  built  new  defences 
behind  the  old  ones,  and  the  disheartened  assailants 
learned  that  they  had  done  their  work  in  vain. 

This  repulse  greatly  discouraged  the  sultan.  He 
was  still  more  discouraged  when  the  crusaders,  irre- 
pressible in  their  hot  enthusiasm,  broke  from  the 
city  and  made  a  fierce  attack  upon  his  works.  Capis- 
trano,  seeing  that  they  were  not  to  be  restrained,  put 
himself  at  their  head,  and  with  a  stick  in  one  hand 
and  a  crucifix  in  the  other,  led  them  to  the  assault. 
It  proved  an  irresistible  one.     The  Turks  could  not 


THE   SIEGE   OP   BELGRADE.  209 

sustain  themselves  against  these  flail-swinging  peas- 
ants.  One  intrenchment  after  another  fell  into  their 
hands,  until  three  had  been  stormed  and  taken.  Their 
success  inspired  Hunyades.  Filled  with  a  new  re- 
spect for  his  peasant  allies,  and  seeing  that  now  or 
never  was  the  time  to  strike,  he  came  to  their  aid 
with  his  cavalry,  and  fell  so  suddenly  and  violently 
upon  the  Turkish  rear  that  the  invaders  were  put  to 
rout. 

Onward  pushed  the  crusaders  and  their  allies; 
backward  went  the  Turks.  The  remaining  intrench- 
ments  were  stubbornly  defended,  but  that  storm  of 
iron  flails,  those  pikes  and  pitchforks,  wielded  by 
fanatical  zeal,  were  not  to  be  resisted,  and  in  the 
end  all  tbat  remained  of  the  Turkish  army  broke 
into  panic  flight,  the  sultan  himself  being  wounded, 
and  more  than  twenty  thousand  of  his  men  left 
dead  upon  the  field. 

It  was  a  signal  victory.  Miraculous  almost,  when 
one  considers  the  great  disproportion  of  numbers. 
The  works  of  the  invaders,  mounted  with  three 
hundred  cannon,  and  their  camp,  which  contained 
an  immense  booty,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Chris- 
tians, and  the  power  of  Mahomet  II.  was  so  crippled 
that  years  passed  before  he  was  in  condition  to 
attempt  a  second  invasion  of  Europe. 

The  victors  were  not  long  to  survive  their  signal 
triumph.  The  valiant  Hunyades  died  shortly  after 
the  battle,  from  wounds  received  in  the  action  or 
from  fatal  disease.  Capistrano  died  in  the  same  year 
(1456).  Hunyades  left  two  sons,  and  the  Xing  of 
Hungary  repaid  his  services  by  oppressing  both,  and 
iv.— o  18* 


210  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

beheading  one  of  these  sons.  But  the  king  himself 
died  during  the  next  year,  and  Matthias  Corvinus, 
the  remaining  son  of  Hunyades,  was  placed  by  the 
Hungarians  on  their  throne.  They  had  given  their 
brave  defender  the  only  reward  in  their  power. 

If  the  victory  of  Hunyades  and  Capistrano — the 
nobleman  and  the  monk — had  been  followed  up  by 
the  princes  of  Europe,  the  Turks  might  have  been 
driven  from  Constantinople,  Europe  saved  from 
future  peril  at  their  hands,  and  the  tide  of  subse- 
quent history  gained  a  cleaner  and  purer  flow.  But 
nothing  was  done ;  the  princes  were  too  deeply  in- 
terested  in  their  petty  squabbles  to  entertain  large 
views,  and  the  Turks  were  suffered  to  hold  the  em- 
pire of  the  East,  and  quietly  to  recruit  their  forces 
for  later  assaults. 

Of  one  of  these  minor  quarrels  a  curious  story  is 
told,  which  is  in  place  here,  since  it  is  connected  with 
Matthias  Corvinus,  the  son  of  Hunyades.  George 
of  Podiebrad  was  now  King  of  Bohemia.  The  Prot- 
estant reform  in  that  country  had  regained  much 
of  its  lost  strength.  The  pope  preached  a  crusado 
against  the  heretical  king,  and  a  murderous  war 
arose  between  Catholics  and  Hussites,  in  which 
George  was  everywhere  victorious.  Matthias  of 
Hungary  was  proclaimed  King  of  Bohemia  by  the 
Catholic  faction,  and  marched  into  that  country  with 
an  army  of  invasion,  George  watching  him  with 
hostile  and  vigilant  eyes. 

The  story  goes — one  hardly  feels  like  accepting  it 
as  fact — that  George  prepared  for  the  Hungarians  in 
the  great  forests  of  Wylemow,  through  which  their 


THE   SIEGE   OP   BELGRADE.  211 

line  of  march  lay,  by  causing  all  the  trees  in  a  great 
circle  to  be  sawn  half  through.  When  Matthias  and 
his  army  bad  entered  the  circle,  these  trees  were 
suddenly  thrown  down  by  the  ambushed  Bohemians 
and  tbe  invading  army  thus  enclosed  in  a  peculiar 
trap,  the  improvised  breastwork  of  fallen  trees  being 
surrounded  by  their  foes. 

George  refused  to  let  his  entrapped  victim  escape 
until  he  had  agreed  to  make  peace  and  to  pay  the 
expenses  of  the  war.  But  Matthias  no  sooner  found 
himself  again  in  safety  than  he  broke  the  oath  he 
had  sworn,  sent  George  a  chest  of  sand  instead  of 
gold,  and  collected  his  forces  for  a  fresh  attack,  the 
pope  having,  with  the  flexible  conscience  which  so 
many  popes  displayed,  declared  all  oaths  made  to  a 
heretic  to  be  null  and  void.  Europe  at  that  day,  only 
that  it  contained  the  seeds  of  better  things,  seems  to 
have  been  hardly  worth  saving  from  the  Turks. 

As  for  George  of  Bohemia,  he  fell  sick,  grew  dis- 
couraged before  the  multitude  of  his  foes,  and, 
finally,  finding  himself  near  death,  asked  the  Bohe- 
mians to  place  Wladeslaw  of  Poland,  their  ablest 
defender,  upon  the  throne.  They  did  so,  and  the 
Hussite  reform  was  sustained. 


LUTHER  AND    THE  INDUL- 
GENCES. 

At  the  opening  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  re- 
ligious state  of  Europe  was  at  a  very  low  ebb.  The 
depravity  of  the  church  was  only  matched  by  the 
credulity  of  the  people.  Every  trace  of  the  spirit 
of  reform  had  been  swept  away,  even  that  which  had 
so  long  maintained  itself  in  Bohemia  had  vanished, 
and  Europe  lay  mentally  prostrate  under  the  papacy. 
Doubtless  there  was  much  free  thought,  but  tl*ere 
was  little  free  speech.  The  virtue  which  adversity 
fosters  was  not  needed  in  the  church,  in  which  pros- 
perity ruled,  and  vice  had  taken  virtue's  place,  while 
deception  and  cupidity  had  largely  replaced  truth  and 
righteousness. 

The  depravity  of  the  clergy  was  an  inevitable  re- 
sult of  the  existing  conditions.  Idlers,  fortune-seek- 
ers, and  hypocrites  were  fostered  in  multitudes  in  the 
bosom  of  the  church.  Princes  and  counts  held  the 
bishoprics  as  sinecures,  and  disgraced  them  by  the 
wantonness  of  their  lives.  Nobles  of  lower  rank,  but 
their  equals  in  pride  and  impiety,  filled  the  canonries. 
The  people,  who  saw  no  other  easy  road  to  power 
and  distinction,  crowded  into  the  priesthood,  and  dis- 
graced it  by  their  ignorance  and  venality.  The  pope 
212 


LTTTHER   AND   THE    INDULGENCES.  213 

countenanced  this  ignorance  by  decreeing  that  only 
one  ecclesiastic  out  of  ten  need  study.  The  morals 
of  the  clergy  were  incurably  depraved.  Celibacy 
was  evaded,  drunkenness  was  a  common  vice,  and 
vows  of  poverty  were  a  mockery.  It  was  a  common 
saying,  in  reference  to  the  vow  of  poverty,  obedience, 
and  chastity,  that  "  the  monks  were  only  poor  in  the 
batn,  obedient  at  table,  and  chaste  at  the  altar,"  and 
also  that  "  the  abbots  have,  by  means  of  their  pov- 
erty, become  the  wealthiest  proprietors;  by  means 
of  their  obedience,  mighty  potentates;  by  means 
of  their  chastity,  the  husbands  of  all  the  women." 
The  works  of  Eabelais,  written  at  this  time  by  one 
who  was  himself  a  priest,  and  their  immense  popu- 
larity, show  clearly  the  prevailing  opinion  concerning 
the  character  of  the  clergy. 

The  credulity  of  the  people  matched  the  impiety 
of  the  priests.  Eelics  were  venerated  with  a  devo- 
tion which  seemed  to  increase  with  their  absurdity. 
There  was  almost  enough  of  the  wood  of  the  true 
cross  in  Europe  to  make  a  forest.  Some  of  the  saints 
had  left  behind  them  three  or  four  bodies  and  numer- 
ous limbs,  their  multiplication  paralleling  that  of  the 
loaves  and  fishes.  There  was  shown  a  chemise  six 
feet  long,  which  was  claimed  to  have  belonged  to 
the  Holy  Yirgin.  Among  the  relics  were  the  drum 
to  whose  music  the  Hebrews  crossed  the  Eed  Sea, 
hay  from  the  manger  at  Bethlehem,  a  piece  of  the 
head  of  Tobias's  fish,  and  others  still  more  absurd. 
It  was  impossible  to  pass  the  limits  of  the  public  cre- 
dulity. Eeform  was  a  crying  need,  and  the  time  for 
it  was  at  hand,  but  it  was  reform  from  impiety  and 


214  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

greed,  not  from  credulity,  which  latter  could  only 
come  through  the  slow  spread  of  intelligence. 

It  was  the  cupidity  of  the  church,  its  effort  to 
obtain  money  by  any  means,  good,  bad,  or  indifferent, 
which  at  length  filled  the  cup  of  public  disgust. 
The  sale  of  indulgences  was  the  turning-point,  the 
conversion  of  Europe  into  an  open  market  for  the 
purchase  and  sale  of  absolution  from  sin. 

At  the  time  of  the  crusades  the  popes  had  granted 
to  all  who  took  part  in  them  remission  from  church 
penalties.  At  a  later  date  the  same  indulgence  was 
granted  to  those  who  aided  the  holy  wars  with  cash 
instead  of  in  person.  Later  on,  men  might  gain 
remission  of  sins  by  pious  works,  such  as  building 
churches,  etc.  When  the  Turks  threatened  Europe, 
those  who  fought  against  them  obtained  indulgence. 
And  so  the  matter  went  on,  until  it  degenerated  into 
an  open  mockery  of  religion,  salvation  being  sold 
like  so  much  cheese  and  butter. 

At  first  the  indulgences  only  freed  their  holders 
from  church  penalties,  but  men  soon  came  to  think 
that  they  absolved  them  from  sin  itself,  a  belief 
which  proved  useful  to  the  prelates,  and  was  widely 
encouraged  by  them.  At  the  period  which  we  have 
now  reached  the  venal  business  had  attained  shame- 
ful proportions.  It  was  no  longer  necessary  to  join 
a  crusade,  to  enter  on  a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem  or 
to  Eome,  to  build  a  church  or  a  school,  in  order  to 
obtain  indulgence  from  sin  and  punishment.  Indul- 
gences were  everywhere  on  sale,  the  pope  had  in- 
trusted them  to  the  begging  monks  on  account  of 
their  immediate  intercourse  with  the  people,  and 


LUTHER  AND  THE  INDULGENCES.       215 

these  agents  of  church  cupidity  marched  through 
Europe,  hawking  salvation  right  and  left  until  the 
business  became  a  shameless  abuse.  No  matter  how 
heavy  the  sin,  a  sufficient  payment  would  remove  its 
penalty.  Even  such  crimes  as  perjury  and  murder 
might  be  thus  condoned.  There  were  special  prices 
for  special  sins,  as  for  adultery  six  ducats.  Sins  not 
yet  committed  might  be  atoned  for  in  advance.  The 
travelling  preachers  used  all  their  eloquence  to  in- 
duce the  people  to  buy  these  papers.  One  of  them, 
Tetzel  by  name,  whom  history  has  made  notorious,  is 
said  to  have  carried  about  a  picture  of  the  devil  tor- 
menting the  souls  of  men  in  hell,  while  his  money- 
box bore  the  following  inscription  : 

"  Soon  as  the  groschen  in  the  casket  rings, 
The  troubled  soul  from  purgatory  springs," 

or,  to  quote  another  translation, — 

"  As  the  money  in  you  pop, 
The  souls  from  purgatory  hop." 

The  sermons  of  Tetzel  were  rich  examples  of  the 
begging  oration.  Some  of  them  are  extant,  and  we 
may  quote  a  passage, — 

"  Saint  Stephen  once  gave  himself  up  to  be  stoned, 
St.  Lawrence  consented  to  be  roasted,  St.  Bartholo- 
mew was  skinned ;  now  will  you  not  at  least  make 
the  sacrifice  of  a  small  donation  to  save  your  souls." 

The  venality  of  this  business  roused  a  wide-spread 
feeling  of  indignation.    The  people  themselves,  credu 


216  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

lous  as  they  were,  could  not  quite  swallow  absolution 
thus  administered.  To  the  educated  classes  it  was 
a  shameless  burlesque  of  religion.  In  1516,  Leo  X., 
needing,  as  he  said,  money  to  complete  the  building 
of  the  church  of  St.  Peter  at  Eome,  sent  out  a  new 
troop  of  preachers,  with  fresh  packs  of  indulgences, 
to  sell  salvation  throughout  Europe  for  the  benefit 
of  the  Holy  See.  Tetzel  was  one  of  these  peddlers 
of  absolution,  his  field  of  labor  being  Saxony. 
Against  him  the  gathering  feeling  of  public  disgust 
at  length  found  a  voice,  its  spokesman  being  one 
Martin  Luther,  a  friar,  and  professor  of  theology  at 
Wittenberg. 

The  voice  of  Luther  was  the  voice  of  the  people, 
as  was  soon  proved.  On  the  eve  of  All-Saints'  Day 
(October  31),  1517,  he  nailed  upon  the  door  of  the 
church  at  Wittenberg  a  paper  containing  ninety-five 
theses,  in  which  he  bitterly  condemned  the  sale  of 
indulgences,  and  declared  that  the  pope  had  no 
power  in  himself  to  remit  sins.  The  arguments 
were  vigorous,  and  proved  like  fire  to  the  powder 
of  public  opinion.  Instantly  there  was  a  flame. 
Luther's  opinions  seemed  to  be  everybody's  opinions. 
The  utmost  curiosity  and  interest  were  aroused  as 
tidings  of  this  protest  spread.  Within  a  fortnight 
copies  of  Luther's  paper  had  been  distributed  through- 
out Germany.  Within  five  or  six  weeks  they  were 
spread  through  all  Europe.  Everywhere  the  great 
protest  against  indulgences  was  the  sensation  of  the 
day;  everywhere  the  utmost  excitement  concerning 
the  new  doctrines  prevailed;  everywhere  the  new 
views  concerning  remission  of  sin  found  enthusiastic 


LUTHER  AND  THE  INDULGENCES.       217 

adherents.  Europe  was  ready  for  religious  reform ; 
it  awakened  at  a  call. 

Luther  was  cited  to  appear  at  Eome.  His  friends 
would  not  let  him  go.  They  knew  too  well  Eome's 
method  of  dealing  with  its  opponents.  Then  the 
pope's  nuncio,  Cajetan,  demanded  that  Luther  should 
retract  his  sentiments.  Luther  refused  to  do  so, 
and  defended  them  so  strongly  that  Cajetan  ended 
the  controversy  with  the  following  words,  more 
complimentary  than  polite : 

"I  will  no  longer  talk  to  this  beast;  he  is  deep- 
sighted,  and  has  wonderful  ideas." 

Luther  was  no  more  polite  and  much  less  compli- 
mentary in  his  opinion  of  the  nuncio.  He  said  of 
him, — 

"  He  knows  no  more  about  the  Word  than  a  don- 
key knows  of  harp-playing." 

As  Cajetan  would  hold  no  further  communication 
with  Luther,  and  as  Augsburg,  where  this  contro- 
versy had  been  held,  was  far  from  being  safe  quarters 
for  a  heretic,  as  the  protesting  monk  was  now  con- 
sidered, he  left  that  city  in  haste  and  secrecy,  not 
caring  to  trust  himself  longer  within  the  grip  of  the 
nuncio. 

In  the  next  year,  1519,  a  discussion  took  place  at 
Leipzig,  between  Luther  on  the  one  hand,  aided  by 
his  friends  Melanchthon  and  Carlstadt,  and  a  zeal- 
ous and  talented  ecclesiastic,  Dr.  Eck,  on  the  other. 
Eck  was  a  vigorous  debater, — in  person,  in  voice, 
and  in  opinion, — and  as  Luther  was  not  to  be  silenced 
by  his  thunder  of  argument,  he  ended  by  calling 
him  "  a  gentile  and  publican,"  and  wending  his  way 
k  19 


218  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

to  Kome,  where  he  expressed  his  opinion  of  the  new 
movement,  and  demanded  that  the  heretic  should  be 
made  to  feel  the  heavy  hand  of  church  discipline. 

Back  he  came  soon  to  Germany,  bearing  a  bull 
from  the  pope,  in  which  were  extracts  from  Luther's 
writings  claimed  to  be  heretical,  and  which  must  be 
publicly  retracted  within  sixty  days  under  threat  of 
excommunication.  This  the  ardent  agent  tried  to 
distribute  through  Germany,  but  to  his  surprise  he 
found  that  Germany  was  in  no  humor  to  receive  it. 
Most  of  the  magistrates  forbade  it  to  be  made  public. 
Where  it  was  posted  upon  the  walls  of  any  town, 
the  people  immediately  tore  it  down.  In  truth,  Lu- 
ther's heresy  had  with  extraordinary  rapidity  be- 
come the  heresy  of  Germany,  and  he  found  himself 
with  a  nation  at  his  back,  a  nation  that  admired  his 
courage  and  supported  his  opinions. 

As  for  Luther  himself,  there  was  now  but  one  of 
two  steps  to  take, — to  step  back  into  the  church,  or 
to  step  forward  out  of  the  church.  He  stood  mid- 
way between  recantation  and  revolution,  and  must 
choose  one  or  the  other.  Which  he  would  choose, 
there  was  no  question.  He  was  not  the  man  to 
swallow  his  opinions  and  retreat  from  danger.  He 
took  the  decisive  step  forward.  On  the  10th  of 
December,  1520,  the  faculty  and  students  of  the 
University  of  Wittenberg,  convoked  by  him,  met 
at  the  Elster  gate  of  the  town.  Here  the  students 
erected  a  funeral  pile,  one  of  the  magistrates  set  fire 
to  it,  and  Luther,  amid  approving  shouts  from  the 
multitude,  flung  into  the  flames  the  pope's  bull,  and 
with  it  the  books  of  canonical  law  and  the  writings 


LUTHER  AND  THE  INDULGENCES.       219 

of  Dr.  Eck.  As  the  flames  writhed  upward  they 
bore  on  their  curling  columns  the  doom  of  papal 
domination  in  Germany.  The  argument  of  fire  was 
the  favorite  one  with  Eome ;  its  opponents  were 
now  fighting  it  with  its  own  weapons. 

Luther  had  Germany  at  his  back,  we  have  said. 
In  truth,  the  rapidity  with  which  his  views  had 
spread  and  been  accepted  was  phenomenal.  The  pile 
was  ready ;  it  but  needed  the  spark  to  set  it  in  flame. 
The  land  was  ripe  for  a  change  of  opinion.  It  was 
not  only  disgust  at  the  venality,  and  indignation 
at  the  shameless  cupidity,  of  the  church  that  pre- 
vailed, but  the  hardy  logic  of  the  north  was  affected 
by  a  growing  disbelief  in  its  claims  and  creed,  and 
an  opinion  that  it  fostered  errors  and  denied  truths. 

The  age  of  blind  acceptance  was  at  an  end. 
Science  was  born,  knowledge  was  growing.  Impor- 
tant inventions  had  been  made,  most  important 
among  them  that  of  printing.  Thought  was  spread- 
ing with  unexampled  rapidity,  and  the  education  of 
the  masses  had  fairly  begun.  To  this  stirring  Teu- 
tonic mind  came  the  vital  words  of  Luther,  homely 
in  their  phraseology,  incisive  in  their  arguments, 
irresistible  in  force.  His  writings  were  the  clew  for 
which  the  mind  of  Germany  had  been  vaguely  feel- 
ing, his  opinions  those  which  had  been  striving  for 
recognition,  and  which  now  suddenly  gained  form 
and  voice.  It  is  not  surprising  that  this  simple  monk 
of  Wittenberg  found  Germany,  peers  and  commons, 
on  his  side,  and  that  the  words  "church  reform," 
"  religious  liberty,"  were  no  sooner  spoken  than  they 
roused  an  echo  far  and  wide. 


220  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

The  bold  reibrmei  found  friends  not  only  among 
the  lowly,  but  among  the  powerful.  The  elector  of 
Saxony  was  on  his  side,  and  openly  accused  the  pope 
of  acting  the  unjust  judge,  by  listening  to  one  side 
and  not  the  other,  and  of  needlessly  agitating  the 
people  by  his  bull.  Ulric  von  Hatten,  a  favorite 
popular  leader,  was  one  of  the  zealous  proselytes  of 
the  new  doctrines.  Frank  von  Sickengen,  a  knight 
of  celebrity,  was  another  who  offered  Luther  shelter, 
if  necessary,  in  his  castles. 

And  now  came  a  turning-point  in  Luther's  career, 
the  most  dangerous  crisis  he  was  to  reach,  and  the 
one  that  needed  the  utmost  courage  and  most  in- 
flexible resolution  to  pass  it  in  safety.  It  was  that 
which  has  become  famous  as  the  "  Diet  of  Worms." 
Germany  had  gained  a  new  emperor,  Charles  V., 
under  whose  sceptre  the  empire  of  Charlemagne  was 
in  great  part  restored,  for  his  dominions  included 
Germany,  Spain,  and  the  Netherlands.  This  young 
monarch  left  Spain  for  Germany  in  1521,  and  was 
no  sooner  there  than  he  called  a  great  diet,  to  meet 
at  Worms,  that  the  affairs  of  the  empire  might  be 
regulated,  and  that  in  particular  this  religious  con- 
troversy, which  was  troubling  the  public  mind, 
should  be  settled. 

Thither  came  the  princes  and  potentates  of  the 
realm,  thither  great  dignitaries  of  the  church,  among 
them  the  pope's  legate,  Cardinal  Alexander,  who 
was  commissioned  to  demand  that  the  emperor  and 
the  princes  should  call  Luther  to  a  strict  account, 
and  employ  against  him  the  temporal  power.  But 
to  the  cardinal's  astonishment  he  found  that  the 


LUTHER  AND  THE  INDULGENCES.       221 

people  of  Germany  had  seceded  from  the  pope. 
Everywhere  he  met  with  writings,  songs,  and  pict- 
ures in  which  the  holy  father  was  treated  with  con- 
tempt and  mockery.  Even  himself,  as  the  pope's 
representative,  was  greeted  with  derision,  and  his 
life  at  times  was  endangered,  despite  the  fact  that 
he  came  in  the  suite  of  the  emperor.  The  people 
certainly  were  not  in  the  mood  to  be  trifled  with. 

The  diet  assembled,  the  cardinal,  as  instructed, 
demanded  that  severe  measures  should  be  taken 
against  the  arch-heretic  ;  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  on 
the  contrary,  insisted  that  Luther  should  be  heard 
in  his  own  defence;  the  emperor  and  the  princes 
agreed  with  him,  silencing  the  cardinal's  declaration 
that  the  diet  had  no  right  or  power  to  question  the 
decision  of  the  pope.  Question  it  they  did,  and 
Luther  was  invited  to  appear  before  the  imperial 
assembly  at  Worms,  the  emperor  granting  him  a 
safe-conduct. 

Possibly  Charles  thought  that  the  insignificant 
monk  would  fear  to  come  before  that  august  body? 
and  the  matter  thus  die  out.  Luther's  friends 
strongly  advised  him  not  to  go.  They  had  the  ex- 
perience of  John  Huss  to  offer  as  argument.  But 
Luther  was  not  the  man  to  be  stopped  by  dread  of 
dignitaries  or  fear  of  the  stake.  Truth  with  him 
was  higher  than  princes  and  stronger  than  fear.  He 
immediately  set  out  from  Wittenberg  for  Worms, 
saying  to  his  protesting  friends,  "Though  there 
were  as  many  devils  in  the  city  as  there  are  tiles  on 
the  roofs,  still  I  would  go." 

His  journey  was  an  ovation.  The  people  flocked 
19» 


222  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

by  thousands  to  greet  and  applaud  him.  On  hU 
arrival  at  Worms  two  thousand  people  gathered  and 
accompanied  him  to  his  lodgings.  When,  on  the 
next  day,  April  18,  1521,  the  grand-marshal  of  the 
empire  conducted  him  to  the  diet,  he  was  obliged  to 
lead  him  across  gardens  and  through  by-ways  to 
avoid  the  throng  that  filled  the  streets  of  the  town. 

When  entering  the  hall,  he  was  clapped  on  the 
shoulder  by  a  famous  knight  and  general  of  the 
empire,  George  von  Frundsberg,  who  said,  "  Monk, 
monk,  thou  art  in  a  strait  the  like  of  which  myself 
and  many  leaders,  in  the  most  desperate  battles, 
have  never  known.  But  if  thy  thoughts  are  just, 
and  thou  art  sure  of  thy  cause,  go  on,  in  God's 
name;  and  he  of  good  cheer;  He  will  not  forsake* 
thee." 

Luther  was  not  an  imposing  figure  as  he  stood 
before  the  proud  assembly  in  the  imperial  hall.  He 
had  just  recovered  from  a  severe  fever,  and  was  pale 
and  emaciated.  And  standing  there,  unsupported 
by  a  single  friend,  before  that  great  assembly,  his 
feelings  were  strongly  excited.  The  emperor  re- 
marked to  his  neighbor,  "This  man  would  never 
succeed  in  making  a  heretic  of  me." 

But  though  Luther's  body  was  weak,  his  mind  was 
strong.  His  air  quickly  became  calm  and  dignified. 
He  was  commanded  to  retract  the  charges  he  had 
made  against  the  church.  In  reply  he  acknowledged 
that  the  writings  produced  were  his  own,  and  de- 
clared that  he  was  not  ready  to  retract  them,  but 
said  that  "  If  they  can  convince  me  from  the  Holy 
Scriptures  that  I  am  in  error,  I  am  ready  with  my 


I  _ 


.*£ 


LUTHEB  AND  THE  INDULGENCES.       223 

own  hands  to  cast  the  whole  of  my  writings  into  the 
flames." 

The  chancellor  replied  that  what  he  demanded  was 
retraction,  not  dispute.  This  Luther  refused  to  give. 
The  emperor  insisted  on  a  simple  recantation,  which 
Luther  declared  he  could  not  make.  For  several 
days  the  hearing  continued,  ending  at  length  in  the 
threatening  declaration  of  the  emperor,  that  "he 
would  no  longer  listen  to  Luther,  but  dismiss  him  at 
once  from  his  presence,  and  treat  him  as  he  would  a 
heretic." 

There  was  danger  in  this,  the  greatest  danger. 
The  emperor's  word  had  been  given,  it  is  true ;  but  an 
emperor  had  broken  his  word  with  John  Huss,  and  his 
successor  might  with  Martin  Luther.  Charles  was, 
indeed,  importuned  to  do  so,  but  replied  that  his  im- 
perial word  was  sacred,  even  if  given  to  a  heretic, 
and  that  Luther  should  have  an  extension  of  the  safe- 
conduct  for  twenty-one  days,  during  his  return  home. 
In  truth,  treachery  against  him  would  not  have  been 
safe.  The  people  of  Worms  were  on  his  side,  and 
with  them  many  of  the  nobles  of  the  diet,  who  had 
neard  his  manly  words  with  approval  and  admira- 
tion. It  was  even  rumored  that  four  hundred  of 
them  had  sworn  to  defend  him  at  all  hazards,  and 
papers  were  found  on  which  the  significant  word 
"  Bundschuh"  was  written.  Public  opinion  had  grown 
since  the  days  of  John  Huss. 

Luther  started  home.  It  was  a  journey  by  no 
means  free  from  danger.  He  had  powerful  and  un- 
scrupulous enemies.  He  might  be  seized  and  carried 
off  by  an  ambush  of  his  foes.     In  fact,  he  was  seized 


224  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

and  carried  off.  He  was  travelling  in  an  open  wagon 
with  one  companion,  and  on  entering  the  Thuringian 
forest  sent  his  escort  in  advance.  Soon  afterwards 
the  wagon  entered  a  lonely  glen,  when  suddenly  four 
armed  knights,  with  closed  visors,  appeared,  seized 
the  reformer,  and  bore  him  off  on  horseback  through 
the  thick  woods. 

What  had  become  of  him  no  one  knew.  The  story 
spread  like  wildfire  that  he  had  been  murdered  by 
his  foes.  Nearly  a  year  passed  before  he  was  heard 
from  again.  But  the  belief  in  his  death  only  redoubled 
the  interest  in  his  writings,  which  were  read  during 
this  interval  with  more  avidity  than  before,  and 
gained  multitudes  of  new  adherents  to  his  cause. 

This  seemingly  violent  raid,  however,  had  been 
made  by  his  friends  instead  of  his  foes ;  and  the 
place  to  which  he  was  taken  was  the  strong  castle 
of  Wartburg,  near  Eisenach.  It  was  his  firm  friend 
and  royal  protector,  Frederick  the  Wise,  Elector  of 
Saxony,  by  whose  orders  this  had  been  done.  Fear- 
ing some  similar  action  by  the  papal  party,  he  had 
thus  taken  care  to  put  Luther  in  a  place  of  safety, 
where  he  could  lie  concealed  until  the  fury  of  his 
enemies  was  appeased. 

Meanwhile,  at  Worms,  the  reformer  was  declared 
out  of  the  ban  of  the  empire,  his  books  were  con- 
demned to  bo  burnt  wherever  found,  and  he  was  ad- 
judged to  be  taken  prisoner  and  delivered  to  the 
emperor.  Yet  even  while  the  emperor  continued  at 
Worms,  and  while  the  ashes  of  the  burned  books  still 
lay  in  the  public  square,  copies  of  Luther's  works 
were  publicly  offered  for  sale  in  that  city ;  so  far  had 


LUTHER  AND  THE  INDULGENCES.       225 

the  decision  of  the  diet  been  from  checking  the  tide 
of  free  thought  in  Germany. 

What  had  become  of  Luther  was  not  known.  His 
friends  believed  him  lost,  but  they  followed  in  his 
steps,  and  propagated  his  ideas.  Melanchthon  drew 
up  the  creed  of  the  new  religious  sect.  Ulric  von 
Batten  continued  his  attacks  on  the  pope;  the 
w  )rk  went  on.  But  Luther  was  doing  better  work  in 
his  retirement  in  the  Wartburg,  where  he  was  known 
as  the  Chevalier  George,  dressed  like  a  knight,  with 
helmet,  breastplate,  and  sword,  and  amused  himself 
at  times  by  hunting  in  the  neighborhood.  This  work 
was  the  translation  of  the  Bible  into  German,  a  task 
which  had  a  double  effect.  It  not  only  gave  all  men 
of  the  nation  an  opportunity  to  see  for  themselves 
what  the  Scriptures  really  taught,  but  it  greatly 
improved  the  German  language,  Luther's  works 
having  since  served  as  the  basis  of  all  the  High 
German  literature. 

The  reformer  was  first  brought  from  his  retreat 
by  an  outbreak  of  fanatical  enthusiasts,  who  had 
carried  the  ideas  of  reform  to  excess.  He  returned 
to  Wittenberg,  where  he  preached  for  eight  days 
with  great  eloquence  against  the  fanatics,  and  finally 
succeeded  in  quieting  the  disturbance.  From  that 
time  forward  he  continued  the  guiding  spirit  of  the 
Eeformation,  and  was  looked  upon  with  high  con- 
sideration by  most  of  the  princes  of  Germany,  while 
his  doctrines  spread  throughout  Bohemia,  Moravia, 
Denmark,  and  Sweden.  He  died,  in  1546,  in  his  bed, 
a  happy  termination  reached  by  few  of  the  reformers 
of  that  age. 

lY.—p 


SO  LYMAN  THE  MAGNIFICENT 
AT  GUNTZ. 

Solyman  the  Magnificent,  Sultan  of  Turkey,  had 
collected  an  army  of  dimensions  as  magnificent  as 
his  name,  and  was  on  his  march  to  overwhelm  Aus- 
tria and  perhaps  subject  all  western  Europe  to  his 
arms.  A  few  years  before  he  had  swept  Hungary 
with  his  hordes,  taken  and  plundered  its  cities  of 
Buda  and  Pesth,  and  made  the  whole  region  his 
own.  Belgrade,  which  had  been  so  valiantly  de- 
fended against  his  predecessor,  had  fallen  into  his 
infidel  hands.  The  gateways  of  western  Europe 
were  his;  he  had  but  to  open  them  and  march 
through ;  doubtless  there  had  come  to  him  glorious 
dreams  of  extending  the  empire  of  the  crescent  to 
the  western  seas.  And  yet  the  proud  and  powerful 
sultan  was  to  be  checked  in  his  course  by  an  obstacle 
seemingly  as  insignificant  as  if  the  sting  of  a  hornet 
should  stop  the  career  of  an  elephant.  The  story 
is  a  remarkable  one,  and  deserves  to  be  better 
known. 

Vast  was  the  army  which  Solyman  raised.  He 
had  been  years  in  gathering  men  and  equipments. 
Great  work  lay  before  him,  and  he  needed  great 
means  for  its  accomplishment.     It  is  said  that  three 


SOLYMAN   THE   MAGNIFICENT  AT    GUNTZ.  227 

hundred  thousand  men  marched  under  his  banners. 
So  large  was  the  force,  so  great  the  quantity  of  its 
baggage  and  artillery,  that  its  progress  was  neces- 
sarily a  slow  one,  and  sixty  days  elapsed  during  its 
march  from  Constantinople  to  Belgrade. 

Here  was  time  for  Ferdinand  of  Austria  to  bring 
together  forces  for  the  defence  of  his  dominions 
against  the  leviathan  which  was  slowly  moving 
upon  them.  He  made  efforts,  but  they  were  not  of 
the  energetic  sort  which  the  crisis  demanded,  and 
had  the  Turkish  army  been  less  unwieldly  and  more 
rapid,  Yienna  might  have  fallen  almost  undefended 
into  Solyman's  hands.  Fortunately,  large  bodies 
move  slowly,  and  the  sultan  met  with  an  obstacle 
that  gave  the  requisite  time  for  preparation. 

On  to  Belgrade  swept  the  grand  army,  with  its 
multitude  of  standards  and  all  the  pomp  and  glory 
of  its  vast  array.  The  slowness  with  which  it  came 
was  due  solely  to  its  size,  not  in  any  sense  to  lack 
of  energy  in  the  warlike  sultan.  An  anecdote  is 
extant  which  shows  his  manner  of  dealing  with 
difficulties.  He  had  sent  forward  an  engineer  with 
orders  to  build  a  bridge  over  the  river  Drave,  to  bo 
constructed  at  a  certain  point,  and  be  ready  at  a 
certain  time.  The  engineer  went,  surveyed  the 
rapid  stream,  and  sent  back  answer  to  the  sultan 
that  it  was  impossible  to  construct  a  bridge  at  thai 
point. 

But  Solyman's  was  one  of  those  magnificent  souls 
that  do  not  recognize  the  impossible.  He  sent  the 
messenger  back  to  the  engineer,  in  his  hand  a  linen 
cord,  on  his  lips  this  message : 


228  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

"  Tour  master,  the  sultan,  commands  you,  without 
consideration  of  the  difficulties,  to  complete  the 
bridge  over  the  Drave.  If  it  be  not  ready  for  him 
on  his  arrival,  he  will  have  you  strangled  with  this 
cord." 

The  bridge  was  built.  Solyman  had  learned  the 
art  of  overcoming  the  impossible.  He  was  soon  to 
have  a  lesson  in  the  art  of  overcoming  the  difficult. 

Belgrade  was  in  due  time  reached.  Here  the 
sultan  embarked  his  artillery  and  heavy  baggage  on 
the  Danube,  three  thousand  vessels  being  employed 
for  that  purpose.  They  were  sent  down  the  stream, 
under  sufficient  escort,  towards  the  Austrian  capital, 
while  the  main  array,  lightened  of  much  of  its  load, 
prepared  to  march  more  expeditiously  than  hereto- 
fore through  Hungary  towards  its  goal. 

Ferdinand  of  Austria,  alarmed  at  the  threatening 
approach  of  the  Turks,  had  sent  rich  presents  and 
proposals  of  peace  to  Solyman  at  Belgrade;  hut 
those  had  the  sole  effect  of  increasing  his  pride  and 
making  him  more  confidant  of  victory.  He  sent  an 
insulting  order  to  the  ambassadors  to  follow  his 
encampment  and  await  his  pleasure,  and  paid  no 
further  heed  to  their  pacific  mission. 

The  Save,  an  affluent  of  the  Danube,  was 
crossed,  and  the  army  lost  sight  of  the  great  stream, 
and  laid  its  course  by  a  direct  route  through  Scla- 
vonia  towards  the  borders  of  Styria,  the  outlying 
Austrian  province  in  that  direction.  It  was  the 
shortest  line  of  march  available,  the  distance  to  be 
covered  being  about  two  hundred  miles.  On  reach- 
ing the  Styrian  frontier,  the  Illyrian  mountain  chain 


SOLYMAN   THE   MAGNIFICENT   AT   GTJNTZ.  229 

needed  to  be  crossed,  and  within  it  lay  the  obstacle 
with  which  Solyman  had  to  contend. 

The  route  of  the  army  led  through  a  mountain 
pass.  In  this  pass  was  a  petty  and  obscure  town, 
Gtintz  by  name,  badly  fortified,  and  garrisoned  by 
a  mere  handful  of  men,  eight  hundred  in  all.  Its 
principal  means  of  defence  lay  in  the  presence  of  an 
indomitable  commander,  Nicholas  Jurissitz,  a  man 
of  iron  nerve  and  fine  military  skill. 

Ibrahim  Pasha,  who  led  the  vanguard  of  the 
Turkish  force,  ordered  the  occupation  of  this  moun- 
tain fortress,  and  learned  with  anger  and  mortifica- 
tion that  Guntz  had  closed  its  gates  and  frowned 
defiance  on  his  men.  Word  was  sent  back  to  Soly- 
man, who  probably  laughed  in  his  beard  at  the 
news.     It  was  as  if  a  fly  had  tried  to  stop  an  ox. 

"  Brush  it  away  and  push  onward,"  was  probably 
the  tenor  of  his  orders. 

But  Guntz  was  not  to  be  brushed  away.  It  stood 
there  like  an  awkward  fact,  its  guns  commanding  the 
pass  through  which  the  army  must  march,  a  ridicu- 
lous obstacle  which  had  to  be  dealt  with  however 
time  might  press. 

The  sultan  sent  orders  to  his  advance-guard  to 
take  the  town  and  march  on.  Ibrahim  Pasha  pushed 
forward,  assailed  it,  and  found  that  he  had  not  men 
enough  for  the  work.  The  little  town  with  its  little 
garrison  had  the  temper  of  a  shrew,  and  held  its 
own  against  him  valiantly.  A  few  more  battalions 
were  sent,  but  still  the  town  held  out.  The  sultan, 
enraged  at  this  opposition,  now  despatched  what  he 
considered  an  overwhelming  force,  with  orders  to 
20 


230  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

take  the  town  without  delay,  and  to  punish  the 
garrison  as  they  deserved  for  their  foolish  obstinacy. 
But  what  was  his  surprise  and  fury  to  receive  word 
that  the  pigmy  still  held  out  stubbornly  against  the 
leviathan,  that  all  their  efforts  to  take  it  were  in 
vain,  and  that  its  guns  commanded  and  swept  the 
pass  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  advance  under  its 
storm  of  death-dealing  balls. 

Thundering  vengeance,  Solyman  now  ordered  his 
whole  army  to  advance,  sweep  that  insolent  and 
annoying  obstacle  from  the  face  of  the  earth,  and 
then  march  on  towards  the  real  goal  of  their  enter- 
prise, the  still  distant  city  of  Yienna,  the  capital  and 
stronghold  of  the  Christian  dogs. 

Upon  Guntz  burst  the  whole  storm  of  the  war ; 
against  Guntz  it  thundered,  around  Guntz  it  light- 
ened ;  yet  still  Guntz  stood,  proud,  insolent,  defiant, 
like  a  rock  in  the  midst  of  the  sea,  battered  by  the 
waves  of  war's  tempest,  yet  rising  still  in  unyielding 
strength,  and  dashing  back  the  bloody  spray  which 
lashed  its  walls  in  vain. 

Solyman's  pride  was  roused.  That  town  he  must 
and  would  have.  He  might  have  marched  past  it 
and  left  it  in  the  rear,  though  not  without  great  loss 
and  danger,  for  the  pass  was  narrow  and  commanded 
by  the  guns  of  Guntz,  and  he  would  have  had  to  run 
the  gantlet  of  a  hail-storm  of  iron  balls.  But  he  had 
no  thought  of  passing  it ;  his  honor  was  involved. 
Guntz  must  be  his  and  its  insolent  garrison  punished, 
or  how  could  Solyman  the  Magnificent  ever  ho  d  up 
his  head  among  monarchs  and  conquerors  again  ? 

On  every  side  the  town  was  assailed ;  cannon  sur- 


80LYMAN   THE   MAGNIFICENT   AT   GTTNTZ.  231 

rounded  it  and  poured  their  balls  upon  its  walls; 
they  were  planted  on  the  hills  in  its  rear;  they  were 
planted  on  lofty  mounds  of  earth  which  overtopped 
its  walls  and  roofs  ;  from  every  direction  they  thun- 
dered threat;  to  every  direction  G-untz  thundered 
back  defiance. 

An  attempt  was  made  to  undermine  the  walls,  but 
m  vain ;  the  commandant,  Jurissitz,  was  far  too  vigi- 
lant to  be  reached  by  burrowing.  Breach  after  breach 
was  made  in  the  walls,  and  as  quickly  repaired,  or 
new  walls  built.  Assault  after  assault  was  made  and 
hurled  back.  Every  effort  was  baffled  by  the  skill, 
vigor,  and  alertness  of  the  governor  and  the  unyield- 
ing courage  of  his  men,  and  still  the  days  went  by, 
and  still  Guntz  stood. 

Solyman,  indignant  and  alarmed,  tried  the  effect 
of  promises,  bribes,  and  threats.  Jurissitz  and  his 
garrison  should  be  enriched  if  they  yielded ;  they 
should  die  under  torture  if  they  persisted.  These 
efforts  proved  as  useless  as  cannon-balls.  The  in- 
domitable Jurissitz  resisted  promises  and  threats  as 
energetically  as  he  had  resisted  shot  and  balls. 

The  days  went  on.  For  twenty-eight  days  that 
insignificant  fortress  and  its  handful  of  men  defied 
the  great  Turkish  army  and  held  it  back  in  that 
mountain-pass.  In  the  end  the  sultan,  with  all  his 
pride  and  all  his  force,  was  obliged  to  accept  a 
feigned  submission  and  leave  Jurissitz  and  his  men 
still  in  possession  of  the  fortress  they  had  held  so 
long  and  so  well. 

They  had  held  it  long  enough  to  save  Austria,  as 
it  proved.     While  the  sultan's  cannon  were  vainly 


232  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

bombarding  its  walls,  Europe  was  gathering  around 
Vienna  in  defence.  From  every  side  troops  hurried 
to  the  salvation  of  Austria  from  the  Turks.  Italy, 
the  Netherlands,  Bohemia,  Poland,  Germany,  sent 
their  quotas,  till  an  army  of  one  hundred  and  thirty 
thousand  men  were  gathered  around  Vienna,  thirty 
thousand  of  them  being  cavalry. 

Solyman  was  appalled  at  the  tidings  brought  him. 
It  had  become  a  question  of  arithmetic  to  his  bar- 
barian intellect.  If  Guntz,  with  less  than  a  thou- 
sand men,  could  defy  him  for  a  month,  what  might 
not  Vienna  do  with  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  ? 
Winter  was  not  far  away.  It  was  already  Septem- 
ber. He  was  separated  from  his  flotilla  of  artillery. 
Was  it  safe  to  advance?  He  answered  the  ques- 
tion by  suddenly  striking  camp  and  retreating  with 
such  haste  that  his  marauding  horsemen,  who  were 
out  in  large  numbers,  were  left  in  ignorance  of  the 
movement,  and  were  nearly  all  taken  or  cut  to 
pieces. 

Thus  ingloriously  ended  one  of  the  most  preten- 
tious invasions  of  Europe.  For  three  years  Solyman 
had  industriously  prepared,  gathering  the  resources 
of  his  wide  dominion  to  the  task  and  fulminating 
infinite  disaster  to  the  infidels.  Yet  eight  hundred 
men  in  a  petty  mountain  town  had  brought  this 
great  enterprise  to  naught  and  sent  back  the  m  ighty 
army  of  the  grand  Turk  in  inglorious  retreat, 

The  story  of  Guntz  has  few  parallels  in  history; 
the  courage  and  ability  of  its  commander  were  of  the 
highest  typo  of  military  worthiness ;  yet  its  story  is 
almost  unknown  and  the  name  of  Jurissitz  is  not 


80LYMAN   THE   MAGNIFICENT   AT   QUNTZ.  233 

classed  among  those  of  the  world's  heroes.     Such  is 
fame. 

There  is  another  interesting  story  of  the  doings 
of  Solyman  and  the  gallant  defence  of  a  Christian 
town,  which  is  worthy  of  telling  as  an  appendix  to 
that  just  given.  The  assault  at  Guntz  took  place  in 
the  year  1532.  In  1566,  when  Solyman  was  much 
older,  though  perhaps  not  much  wiser,  we  find  him 
at  his  old  work,  engaged  in  besieging  the  small  Hun- 
garian town  of  Szigeth,  west  of  Mohacs  and  north  of 
the  river  Drave,  a  stronghold  surrounded  by  the 
small  stream  Almas  almost  as  by  the  waters  of  a 
lake.  It  was  defended  by  a  Croatian  named  Zrinyr 
and  a  garrison  of  twenty-five  hundred  men. 

Around  this  town  the  Turkish  army  raged  and 
thundered  in  its  usual  fashion.  Within  it  the  garri- 
son defended  themselves  with  all  the  spirit  and  en- 
ergy they  could  muster.  Step  by  step  the  Turks 
advanced.  The  outskirts  of  the  town  were  de- 
stroyed by  fire  and  the  assailants  were  within  its 
walls.  The  town  being  no  longer  tenable,  Zrinyr 
took  refuge,  with  what  remained  of  the  garrison,  in 
the  fortress,  and  still  bade  defiance  to  his  foes. 

Solyman,  impatient  at  the  delay  caused  by  the 
obstinacy  of  the  defender,  tried  with  him  the  same 
tactics  he  had  employed  with  Jurissitz  many  years 
before,— those  of  threats  and  promises.  Tempting 
offers  of  wealth  proving  of  no  avail,  the  sultan 
threatened  the  bold  commander  with  the  murder  of 
his  son  George,  a  prisoner  in  his  hands.  This  proved 
equally  unavailing,  and  the  siege  went  on. 

It  went   on,  indeed,  until   Solyman  was  himself 
20* 


234  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

vanquished,  and  by  an  enemy  he  had  not  taken  into 
account  in  his  thirst  for  glory — the  grim  warrior 
Death.  Temper  lolled  him.  In  a  fit  of  passion  he 
suddenly  died.  But  the  siege  went  on.  The  vizier 
concealed  his  death  and  kept  the  batteries  at  work, 
perhaps  deeming  it  best  for  his  own  fortunes  to  bo 
able  to  preface  the  announcement  of  the  sultan's 
death  with  a  victory. 

The  castle  walls  had  been  already  crumbling  under 
the  storm  of  balls.  Soon  they  were  in  ruins.  The 
place  was  no  longer  tenable.  Yet  Zrinyr  was  as  far 
as  ever  from  thoughts  of  surrender.  He  dressed 
himself  in  his  most  magnificent  garments,  filled  his 
pockets  with  gold,  "  that  they  might  find  something 
on  his  corpse,"  and  dashed  on  the  Turks  at  the  head 
of  what  soldiers  were  left.  He  died,  but  not  unre- 
venged.  Only  after  his  death  was  the  Turkish  army 
told  that  their  great  sultan  was  no  more  and  that 
they  owed  their  victory  to  the  shadow  of  the  genius 
of  Solyman  the  Magnificent. 


THE  PEASANTS  AND    THE 
ANABAPTISTS. 

Germany,  under  the  leadership  of  Martin  Luther, 
had  broken  loose  from  religious  autocracy  and  es- 
tablished the  principle  of  freedom  of  thought  in 
things  religious.  The  ball  which  he  had  set  rolling 
was  kept  in  motion  by  other  hands.  His  ideas  of 
reform  were  moderate,  those  of  many  others  proved 
immoderate.  The  pendulum  of  religious  thought, 
set  in  free  swing,  vibrated  from  the  one  extreme  of 
absolute  authority  to  the  opposite  extreme  of  fanati- 
cal license,  going  as  far  beyond  Luther  as  he  had 
gone  beyond  Kome.  There  arose  a  sect  to  which 
was  given  the  name  of  Anabaptists,  from  its  rejec- 
tion of  infant  baptism,  a  sect  with  a  strange  history, 
which  it  now  falls  to  us  to  relate. 

The  reform  movement,  indeed,  was  not  confined 
to  matters  of  religion.  The  idea  of  freedom,  once 
set  afloat,  quickly  went  further  than  its  advocates 
intended.  If  men  were  to  have  liberty  of  thought, 
why  should  they  not  have  liberty  of  action?  So 
argued  the  peasantry,  and  not  without  the  best  of 
reasons,  for  they  were  pitifully  oppressed  by  the 
nobility,  weighed  down  with  feudal  exactions  to 
support  the  luxury  of  the  higher  classes,  their  crops 

235 


236  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

destroyed  by  the  horses  and  dogs  of  hunting-parties, 
their  families  ill-treated  and  insulted  by  the  men-at- 
arms  who  were  maintained  at  their  expense,  their 
flight  from  tyranny  to  the  freedom  of  the  cities  pro- 
hibited by  nobles  and  citizens  alike,  everywhere  en- 
slaved,  everywhere  despised,  it  is  no  wonder  they 
joined  with  gladness  in  the  movement  against  church 
despotism,  and  added  to  it  a  vigorous  demand  for 
political  liberty. 

As  a  result  of  all  this  an  insurrection  broke  out,— 
a  double  insurrection  in  fact, — here  of  the  peasantry 
for  their  rights,  there  of  the  religious  fanatics  for 
their  license.  Suddenly  all  Germany  was  upturned 
by  the  greatest  and  most  dangerous  outbreak  of  the 
laboring  classes  it  had  ever  known,  a  revolt  which, 
had  it  been  ably  led,  might  have  revolutionized 
society  and  founded  a  completely  new  order  of 
things. 

In  1522  the  standard  of  revolt  was  first  raised,  its 
signal  a  golden  shoe,  with  the  motto,  "  Whoever  will 
be  free  let  him  follow  this  ray  of  light."  In  1524  a 
fresh  insurrection  broke  out,  and  in  the  spring  of 
the  following  year  the  whole  country  was  aflame, 
the  peasants  of  southern  Germany  being  everywhere 
in  arms  and  marching  on  the  strongholds  of  their 
oppressors. 

Their  demands  were  by  no  means  extreme.  They 
asked  for  a  board  of  arbitration,  to  consist  of  the 
Archduke  Ferdinand,  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  Luther, 
Kelanchthon,  and  several  preachers,  to  consider  their 
proposed  articles  of  reform  in  industrial  and  politi- 
cal concerns.     These  articles  covered  the  following 


THE    PEASANTS   AND   THE   ANABAPTISTS. 


237 


points.  They  asked  the  right  to  choose  their  own 
pastors,  who  were  to  preach  the  word  of  God  from 
the  Bible  j  the  abolition  of  dues,  except  tithes  to  the 
clergy;  the  abolition  of  vassalage;  the  rights  of 
hunting  and  fishing,  and  of  cutting  wood  in  the 
forests;  reforms  in  rent,  in  the  administration  of 
justice,  and  in  the  methods  of  application  of  the 
laws ;  the  restoration  of  communal  property  illegally 
seized ;  and  several  other  matters  of  the  same  general 
character. 

They  asked  in  vain.  The  princes  ridiculed  the 
idea  of  a  court  in  which  Luther  should  sit  side  by 
side  with  the  archduke.  Luther  refused  to  interfere. 
He  admitted  the  oppression  of  the  peasantry,  se- 
verely attacked  the  princes  and  nobility  for  their 
conduct,  but  deprecated  the  excesses  which  the  in- 
surgents had  already  committed,  and  saw  no  safety 
from  worse  evils  except  in  putting  down  the  peas- 
antry with  a  strong  hand. 

The  rejection  of  the  demands  of  the  rebellious 
peasants  was  followed  by  a  frightful  reign  of  license, 
political  in  the  south,  religious  in  the  north.  Every- 
where the  people  were  in  arms,  destroying  castles, 
burning  monasteries,  and  forcing  numbers  of  the 
nobles  to  join  them,  under  pain  of  having  their 
castles  plundered  and  burned.  The  counts  of  Hohen- 
lohe  were  made  to  enter  their  ranks,  and  were  told, 
"Brother  Albert  and  brother  George,  you  are  no 
longer  lords  but  peasants,  and  we  are  the  lords  of 
Hohenlohe."  Other  nobles  were  similarly  treated. 
Various  Swabian  nobles  fled  for  safety,  with  their 
families  and  treasures,  to  the   city  and  castle  of 


238  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Weinsperg.  The  castle  was  stormed  and  taken, 
and  the  nobles,  seventy  in  number,  were  forced  to 
run  the  gantlet  between  two  lines  of  men  armed 
with  spears,  who  stabbed  them  as  they  passed.  It 
was  this  deed  that  brought  out  a  pamphlet  from 
Luther,  in  which  he  called  on  all  the  citizens  of  the 
empire  to  put  down  "the  furious  peasantry,  to 
strangle,  to  stab  them,  secretly  and  openly,  as  they 
can,  as  one  would  kill  a  mad  dog." 

There  was  need  for  something  to  be  done  if  Ger- 
many was  to  be  saved  from  a  revolution.  The  num- 
bers of  the  insurgents  steadily  increased.  Many  of 
the  cities  were  in  league  with  them,  several  of  the 
princes  entered  in  negotiation  concerning  their  de- 
mands ;  in  Thuringia  the  Anabaptists,  under  the 
lead  of  a  fanatical  preacher  named  Thomas  Munzer, 
were  in  full  revolt;  in  Saxony,  Hesse,  and  lower 
Germany  the  peasantry  were  in  arms ;  there  was 
much  reason  to  fear  that  the  insurgents  and  fanatics 
would  join  their  forces  and  pour  like  a  rushing  tor- 
rent through  the  whole  empire,  destroying  all  before 
them.  Of  the  many  peasant  revolts  which  the 
history  of  medievalism  records  this  was  the  most 
threatening  and  dangerous,  and  called  for  the  most 
strenuous  exertions  to  save  the  institutions  of  Ger- 
many from  a  complete  overthrow. 

At  the  head  of  the  main  body  of  insurgents  was 
a  knight  of  notorious  character,  the  famed  Goetz 
von  Berlichingen, — Goetz  with  the  Iron  Hand,  as 
he  is  named, — a  robber  baron  whose  history  had 
been  one  of  feud  and  contest,  and  of  the  plunder  alike 
of  armed  foes  and  unarmed  travellers.     Goethe  has 


THE   PEASANTS   AND   THE   ANABAPTISTS.  239 

honored  him  by  making  him  the  hero  of  a  drama, 
and  the  peasantry  sought  to  honor  him  by  making 
him  the  leader  of  their  march  of  destruction  This 
worthy  had  lost  his  hand  during  youth,  and  re- 
placed it  with  a  hand  of  iron.  He  was  bold,  daring, 
and  unscrupulous,  but  scarcely  fitted  for  generalship, 
his  knowledge  of  war  being  confined  to  the  tactics 
of  highway  robbery.  Nor  can  it  be  said  that  his 
leadership  of  the  peasants  was  voluntary.  He  was 
as  much  their  prisoner  as  their  general,  his  service 
being  an  enforced  one. 

With  the  redoubtable  Goetz  at  their  head  the 
insurgents  poured  onward,  spreading  terror  before 
them,  leaving  ruin  behind  them.  Castles  and  mon- 
asteries were  destroyed,  until  throughout  Thuringia, 
Franconia,  Swabia,  and  along  the  Ehine  as  far  as 
Lorraine  the  homes  of  lords  and  clergy  were  de- 
stroyed, and  a  universal  scene  of  smoking  ruins 
replaced  the  formerly  stately  architectural  piles. 

We  cannot  go  further  into  the  details  of  this 
notable  outbreak.  The  revolt  of  the  southern  peas- 
antry was  at  length  brought  to  an  end  by  an  army 
collected  by  the  Swabian  league,  and  headed  by 
George  Truchsess  of  Waldburg.  Had  they  marched 
against  him  in  force  he  could  not  have  withstood 
their  onset.  But  they  occupied  themselves  in  sieges, 
disregarding  the  advice  of  their  leaders,  and  per- 
mitted themselves  to  be  attacked  and  beaten  in 
detail.  Seeing  that  all  was  at  an  end,  Goetz  von 
Berlichingen  secretly  fled  from  their  ranks  and 
took  refuge  in  his  castle.  Many  of  the  bodies  of 
peasantry  dispersed.     Others  made  head  against  the 


240  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

troops  and  were  beaten  with  great  slaughter.  AH 
was  at  an  end. 

Truchsess  held  a  terrible  court  of  justice  in  the 
city  of  Wiirzburg,  in  which  his  jester  Hans  acted 
as  executioner,  and  struck  off  the  heads  of  numbers 
of  the  prisoners,  the  bloody  work  being  attended 
with  laughter  and  jests,  which  added  doubly  to  its 
horror.  All  who  acknowledged  that  they  had  read 
the  Bible,  or  even  that  they  knew  how  to  read 
and  write,  were  instantly  beheaded.  The  priest  of 
Schipf,  a  gouty  old  man  who  had  vigorously  opposed 
the  peasants,  had  himself  carried  by  four  of  his  men 
to  the  Truchsess  to  receive  thanks  for  his  services. 
Hans,  fancying  that  he  was  one  of  the  rebels,  slipped 
up  behind  him,  and  in  an  instant  his  head  was  roll- 
ing on  the  floor. 

"  I  seriously  reproved  my  good  Hans  for  his  un- 
toward jest,"  was  the  easy  comment  of  the  Truch- 
sess upon  this  circumstance. 

Throughout  Germany  similar  slaughter  of  the 
peasantry  and  wholesale  executions  took  place.  In 
many  places  the  reprisal  took  the  dimensions  of  a 
massacre,  and  it  is  said  that  by  the  end  of  the 
frightful  struggle  more  than  a  hundred  thousand 
of  the  peasants  had  been  slain.  As  for  its  political 
results,  the  survivors  were  reduced  to  a  deeper  state 
of  servitude  than  before.  Thus  ended  a  great  strug- 
gle which  had  only  needed  an  able  leader  to  make  it 
a  success  and  to  free  the  people  from  feudal  bonds. 
It  ended  like  all  the  peasant  outbreaks,  in  defeat  and 
renewed  oppression.  As  for  the  robber  chief  Goetz, 
he  escaped  with  an  imprisonment  of  two  years. 


THE  PEASANTS  AND   THE  ANABAPTISTS.  241 

In  Thuringia,  as  we  have  said,  the  revolt  was  a 
religious  one,  it  being  controlled  by  Thomas  Munzer, 
a  fanatical  Anabaptist.  He  pretended  that  he  had 
the  gift  of  receiving  divine  revelations,  and  claimed 
to  be  better  able  to  reveal  Christian  truth  than 
Luther.  God  had  created  the  earth,  he  said,  for 
believers,  all  government  should  be  regulated  by  the 
Bible  and  revelation,  and  there  was  no  need  of 
princes,  priests,  or  nobles.  The  distinction  between 
rich  and  poor  was  unchristian,  since  in  God's  king- 
dom all  should  be  alike.  Nicholas  Storch,  one  of 
Miinzer's  preachers,  surrounded  himself  with  twelve 
apostles  and  seventy-two  disciples,  and  claimed  that 
an  angel  brought  him  divine  messages. 

Driven  from  Saxony  by  the  influence  of  Luther, 
Munzer  went  to  Thuringia,  and  gained  such  control 
by  his  preaching  and  his  doctrines  over  the  people 
of  the  town  of  Miilhausen  that  all  the  wealthy 
people  were  driven  away,  their  property  confiscated, 
and  the  sole  control  of  the  place  fell  into  his  hands. 

So  great  was  the  disturbance  caused  by  his  fanati- 
cal teachings  and  the  exertions  of  his  disciples  that 
Luther  again  bestirred  himself,  and  called  on  the 
princes  for  the  suppression  of  Munzer  and  his  fa- 
natical horde.  A  division  of  the  army  was  sent 
into  Thuringia,  and  came  up  with  a  large  body  of 
the  Anabaptists  near  Frankenhausen,  on  May  15, 
1525.  Munzer  was  in  command  of  the  peasants. 
The  army  officers,  hoping  to  bring  them  to  terms 
by  lenient  measures,  offered  to  pardon  them  if  they 
would  give  up  their  leaders  and  peacefully  retire  to 
fcheir  homes.  This  offer  might  have  been  effective 
IV. — L         q  21 


242  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

but  for  Miinzer,  who,  foreseeing  danger  to  himself,  did 
his  utmost  to  awaken  the  fanaticism  of  his  followers. 

It  happened  that  a  rainbow  appeared  in  the 
heavens  during  the  discussion.  This,  he  declared, 
was  a  messenger  sent  to  him  from  God.  His  igno- 
rant audience  believed  him,  and  for  the  moment  were 
stirred  up  to  a  mad  enthusiasm  which  banished  all 
thoughts  of  surrender.  Eushing  in  their  fury  on 
the  ambassadors  of  peace  and  pardon,  they  stabbed 
them  to  death,  and  then  took  shelter  behind  their 
intrenchments,  where  they  prepared  for  a  vigorous 
defence. 

Their  courage,  however,  did  not  long  endure  the 
vigorous  assault  made  by  the  troops  of  the  elector. 
In  vain  they  looked  for  the  host  of  angels  which 
Miinzer  had  promised  would  come  to  their  aid.  Not 
the  glimpse  of  an  angel's  wing  appeared  in  the  sky. 
Miinzer  himself  took  to  night,  and  his  infatuated 
followers,  their  blind  courage  vanished,  fell  an  easy 
prey  to  the  swords  of  the  soldiers. 

The  greater  part  of  the  peasant  horde  were  slain, 
while  Miinzer,  who  had  hidden  himself  in  the  hay- 
loft of  a  house  in  Frankenhausen,  was  quickly  dis- 
covered, dragged  forth,  and  beheaded,  his  death  put- 
ting an  end  to  that  first  phase  of  the  Anabaptist 
outbreak. 

After  this  event,  several  years  passed  during  which 
the  Anabaptists  kept  quiet,  though  their  sect  in- 
creased. Then  came  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
religious  revolts  which  history  records.  Persecution 
in  Germany  had  caused  many  of  the  new  sectarians 
to  emigrate  to  the  Netherlands,  where  their  preach 


THE   PEASANTS   4ND   THE   ANABAPTISTS.  243 

ings  were  effective,  and  many  new  members  were 
gained.  But  the  persecution  instigated  by  Charles 
Y.  against  heretics  in  the  Netherlands  fell  heavily 
upon  them  and  gave  rise  to  a  new  emigration,  great 
numbers  of  the  Anabaptists  now  seeking  the  town 
of  Minister,  the  capital  of  "Westphalia.  The  citizens 
of  this  town  had  expelled  their  bishop,  and  had  in 
consequence  been  treated  with  great  severity  by 
Luther,  in  his  effort  to  keep  the  cause  of  religious 
reform  separate  from  politics.  The  new-comers  were 
received  with  enthusiasm,  and  the  people  of  Miinster 
quickly  fell  under  the  influence  of  two  of  their  fa- 
natical preachers,  John  Matthiesen,  a  baker,  of  Har- 
lem, and  John  Bockhold,  or  Bockelson,  a  tailor,  of 
Leyden. 

Miinster  soon  became  the  seat  of  an  extraordinary 
outburst  of  profligacy,  fanaticism,  and  folly.  The 
Anabaptists  took  possession  of  the  town,  drove  out 
all  its  wealthy  citizens,  elected  two  of  themselves — 
a  clothier  named  Knipper dolling  and  one  Krechting 
— as  burgomasters,  and  started  off  in  a  remark- 
able career  of  self-government  under  AnabaptisJ 
auspices. 

A  community  of  property  was  the  first  measure 
inaugurated.  Every  person  was  required  to  deposit 
all  his  possessions,  in  gold,  silver,  and  other  articles 
of  value,  in  a  public  treasury,  which  fell  under  the 
control  of  Bockelson,  who  soon  made  himself  lord  of 
the  city.  All  the  images,  pictures,  ornaments,  and 
books  of  the  churches,  except  their  Bibles,  were  pub- 
licly burned.  All  persons  were  obliged  to  eat  together 
at  public  tables,  all  made  to  work  according  to  their 


214  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

strength  and  without  regard  to  their  former  station, 
and  a  general  condition  of  communism  was  estab- 
lished. Bockelson  gave  himself  out  as  a  prophet, 
and  quickly  gained  such  influence  over  the  people 
that  they  were  ready  to  support  him  in  the  utmost 
excesses  of  folly  and  profligacy. 

One  of  the  earliest  steps  taken  was  to  authorize 
each  man  to  possess  several  wives,  the  number  of 
women  who  had  sought  Miinster  being  six  times 
greater  than  the  men.  John  Bockelson  set  the  exam- 
ple by  marrying  three  at  once.  His  licentious  example 
was  quickly  followed  by  others,  and  for  a  full  year 
the  town  continued  a  scene  of  unbridled  profligacy 
and  mad  license.  One  of  John's  partisans,  claiming 
to  have  received  a  divine  communication,  saluted 
him  as  monarch  of  the  whole  globe,  the  "  King  of 
Eighteousness,"  his  title  of  royalty  being  "John  of 
Leyden,"  and  declared  that  heaven  had  chosen  him 
to  restore  the  throne  of  David.  Twenty-eight  apos- 
tles were  selected  and  sent  out,  charged  to  preach 
the  new  gospel  to  the  whole  earth  and  to  bring  its 
inhabitants  to  acknowledge  the  divinely-commis- 
sioned king.  Their  success  was  not  great,  however. 
Wherever  they  came  they  were  seized  and  immed: 
ately  executed,  the  earth  showing  itself  very  unwill 
ing  to  accept  John  of  Leyden  as  its  king. 

In  August,  1534,  an  army,  led  by  Francis  of  Wal- 
deck,  the  expelled  bishop,  who  was  supported  by  the 
landgrave  of  Hesse  and  several  other  princes,  ad- 
vanced and  laid  siege  to  the  city,  which  the  Ana- 
baptists defended  with  furious  zeal.  In  the  first 
assault,  which  was  made  on  August  30,  the  assailants 


THE   PEASANTS   AND   THE   ANABAPTISTS.  245 

•were  repulsed  with  severe  loss.  They  then  settled 
down  to  the  slower  but  safer  process  of  siege,  con- 
sidering it  easier  to  starve  out  than  to  fight  out  their 
enthusiastic  opponents. 

One  of  the  two  leaders  of  the  citizens,  John  Mat- 
thiesen,  made  a  sortie  against  the  troops  with  only 
thirty  followers,  filled  with  the  idea  that  he  was  a 
second  Gideon,  and  that  God  would  come  to  his  aid 
to  defeat  the  oppressors  of  His  chosen  people.  The 
aid  expected  did  not  come,  and  Matthiesen  and  his 
followers  were  all  cut  down.  His  death  left  John  of 
Leyden  supreme.  He  claimed  absolute  authority  in 
the  new  "Zion,"  received  daily  fresh  visions  from 
heaven,  which  his  followers  implicitly  believed  and 
obeyed,  and  indulged  in  wild  excesses  which  only 
the  insane  enthusiasm  of  his  followers  kept  them 
from  viewing  with  disgust.  Among  his  mad  freaks 
was  that  of  running  around  the  streets  naked,  shout- 
ing, "The  King  of  Zion  is  come."  His  lieutenant 
Knipperdolling,  not  to  be  outdone  in  fanaticism,  fol- 
lowed his  example,  shouting,  "  Every  high  place  shall 
be  brought  low."  Immediately  the  mob  assailed  the 
churches  and  pulled  down  all  the  steeples.  Those 
who  ventured  to  resist  the  monarch's  decrees  were 
summarily  dealt  with,  the  block  and  axe,  with  Knip- 
perdolling as  headsman,  quickly  disposing  of  all 
doubters  and  rebels. 

Such  was  the  doom  of  Elizabeth,  one  of  the 
prophet's  wives,  who  declared  that  she  could  not 
believe  that  God  had  condemned  so  many  people 
to  die  of  hunger  while  their  king  was  living  m 
abundance.  John  beheaded  her  with  his  own  handa 
21* 


246  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

in  the  market-place,  and  then,  in  insane  frenzy, 
danced  around  her  body  in  company  with  his  other 
wives.  Her  loss  was  speedily  repaired.  The  angels 
were  kept  busy  in  picking  out  new  wives  for  the 
inspired  tailor,  till  in  the  end  he  had  seventeen  in 
all,  one  of  whom,  Divara  by  name,  gained  great  influ- 
ence by  her  spirit  and  beauty. 

While  all  this  was  going  on  within  the  city,  the 
army  of  besiegers  lay  encamped  about  it,  waiting 
patiently  till  famine  should  subdue  the  stubborn 
courage  of  the  citizens.  Numbers  of  nobles  flocked 
thither  by  way  of  pastime,  in  the  absence  of  any 
other  wars  to  engage  their  attention.  Nor  were  the 
citizens  without  aid  from  a  distance.  Parties  of 
their  brethren  from  Holland  and  Friesland  sought  to 
relieve  them,  but  in  vain.  All  their  attempts  were 
repelled,  and  the  siege  grew  straiter  than  ever. 

The  defence  from  within  was  stubborn,  women 
and  boys  being  enlisted  in  the  service.  The  boys 
stood  between  the  men  and  fired  arrows  effectively 
at  the  besiegers.  The  women  poured  lime  and 
melted  pitch  upon  their  heads.  So  obstinate  was 
the  resistance  that  the  city  might  have  held  out  for 
years  but  for  the  pinch  of  famine.  The  effect  of  this 
was  temporarily  obviated  by  driving  all  the  old  men 
and  the  women  who  could  be  spared  beyond  the 
walls ;  but  despite  this  the  grim  figure  of  starvation 
came  daily  nearer  and  nearer,  and  the  day  of  sur- 
render or  death  steadily  approached. 

A  year  at  length  went  by,  the  famine  growing  in 
virulence  with  the  passing  of  the  days.  Hundreds 
perished  of  starvation,  yet  s'jll  the  people  held  out 


THE   PEASANTS   AND   THE   ANABAPTISTS.  247 

with  a  fanatical  courage  that  defied  assault,  still 
their  king  kept  up  their  courage  by  divine  revela- 
tions, and  still  he  contrived  to  keep  himself  suffi- 
ciently supplied  with  food  amid  his  starving  dupes. 

At  length  the  end  came.  Some  of  the  despairing 
citizens  betrayed  the  town  by  night  to  the  enemy. 
On  the  night  of  June  25,  1535,  two  of  them  opened 
the  gates  to  the  bishop's  army,  and  a  sanguinary 
scene  ensued.  The  betrayed  citizens  defended  them- 
selves desperately,  and  were  not  vanquished  until 
great  numbers  of  them  had  fallen  and  the  work  of 
famine  had  been  largely  completed  by  the  sword. 
John  of  Leyden  was  made  prisoner,  together  with 
his  two  chief  men, — Knipperdolling,  his  executioner, 
and  Krechting,  his  chancellor, — they  being  reserved 
for  a  slower  and  more  painful  fate. 

For  six  months  they  were  carried  through  Ger- 
many, enclosed  in  iron  cages,  and  exhibited  as  mon- 
sters to  the  people.  Then  they  were  taken  back  to 
Munster,  where  they  were  cruelly  tortured,  and  at 
length  put  to  death  by  piercing  their  hearts  with 
red-hot  daggers. 

Their  bodies  were  placed  in  iron  cages,  and  sus- 
pended on  the  front  of  the  church  of  St.  Lambert, 
in  the  market-place  of  Munster,  while  the  Catholic 
worship  was  re-established  in  that  city.  The  cages, 
and  the  instruments  of  torture,  are  still  preserved, 
probably  as  salutary  examples  to  fanatics,  or  as  in- 
teresting mementos  of  Miinster's  past  history. 

The  Munster  madness  was  the  end  of  trouble 
with  the  Anabaptists.  They  continued  to  exist,  in 
a  quieter  fashion,  some  of  them  that  fled  from  per- 


248  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

secution  in  Germany  and  Holland  finding  themselves 
exposed  to  almost  as  severe  a  persecution  in  Eng- 
land. As  a  sect  they  have  long  since  vanished,  while 
the  only  trace  of  their  influence  is  to  be  seen  in 
those  recent  sects  that  hold  the  doctrine  of  adult 
baptism. 

The  history  of  mankind  presents  no  parallel  tale  to 
that  we  have  told.  It  was  an  instance  of  insanity 
placed  in  power,  of  lunacy  ruling  over  ignorance 
and  fanaticism ;  and  the  doings  of  John  of  Leyden 
in  Munster  may  be  presented  as  an  example  alike  of 
the  mad  extremes  to  which  unquestioned  power  is  apt 
to  lead,  and  the  vast  capabilities  of  faith  and  trust 
which  exist  in  uneducated  man. 


THE  FORTUNES  OF    W ALLEN- 
STEIN. 

Wallenstein  was  in  power,  Wallenstein  the 
mysterious,  the  ambitious,  the  victorious ;  soldier  of 
fortune  and  arbiter  of  empires ;  reader  of  the  stars 
and  ally  of  the  powers  of  darkness ;  poor  by  birth 
and  rich  by  marriage  and  imperial  favor;  an  ex- 
traordinary man,  surrounded  by  mystery  and  silence, 
victorious  through  ability  and  audacity,  rising  from 
obscurity  to  be  master  of  the  emperor,  and  falling 
at  length  by  the  hand  of  assassination.  In  person 
he  was  tall  and  thin,  in  countenance  sallow  and 
lowering,  his  eyes  small  and  piercing,  his  forehead 
high  and  commanding,  his  hair  short  and  bristling, 
his  expression  dark  and  sinister.  Fortune  was  his 
deity,  ambition  ruled  him  with  the  sway  of  a  tyrant ; 
he  was  born  with  the  conquering  instinct,  and  in  the 
end  handed  over  all  Germany,  bound  and  captive,  to 
his  bigoted  lord,  and  retired  to  brood  new  conquests. 

Albert  von  Wallenstein  was  Bohemian  by  birth, 
Prague  being  his  native  city.  His  parents  were 
Lutherans,  but  they  died,  and  he  was  educated  as  a 
Catholic.  He  travelled  with  an  astrologer,  and  was 
taught  cabalistic  lore  and  the  secrets  of  the  stars, 
which  he  ever  after  believed  tc  control  his  destiny. 

249 


250  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

His  fortune  began  in  his  marriage  to  an  aged  but 
very  wealthy  widow,  who  almost  put  an  end  to  his 
career  by  administering  to  him  a  love-potion.  He 
had  already  served  in  the  army,  fought  against  the 
Turks  in  Hungary,  and  with  his  wife's  money  raised 
a  regiment  for  the  wars  in  Bohemia.  A  second  mar- 
riage with  a  rich  coud  tess  added  to  his  wealth ;  he 
purchased,  at  a  fifth  of  their  value,  about  sixty 
estates  of  the  exiled  Bohemian  nobility,  and  paid  for 
them  in  debased  coin ;  the  emperor,  in  recognition  of 
his  services,  made  him  Duke  of  Friedland,  in  which 
alone  there  were  nine  towns  and  fifty-seven  castles 
and  villages ;  his  wealth,  through  these  marriages, 
purchases,  and  gifts,  steadily  increased  till  he  be- 
came enormously  rich,  and  the  wealthiest  man  in 
Germany,  next  to  the  emperor. 

This  extraordinary  man  was  born  in  an  extraor- 
dinary time,  a  period  admirably  calculated  for  the 
exercise  of  his  talents,  and  sadly  suited  to  the  suffer- 
ing of  mankind  in  consequence.  It  was  the  period 
of  the  frightful  religious  conflict  known  as  the  Thirty 
Years'  War.  A  century  had  passed  since  the  Diet 
of  Worms,  in  which  Protestantism  first  boldly  lifted 
its  head  against  Catholicism.  During  that  period 
the  new  religious  doctrines  had  gained  a  firm  footing 
in  Germany.  Charles  V.  had  done  his  utmost  to 
put  them  down,  and,  discouraged  by  his  failure,  had 
abdicated  the  throne.  In  his  retreat  he  is  said  to 
have  amused  his  leisure  in  seeking  to  make  two 
watches  go  precisely  alike.  The  effort  proved  as 
vain  as  that  to  make  two  people  think  alike,  and 
ho  exclaimed,  M  Not  even  two  watches,  with  similar 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   WALLENSTEIN.  251 

works,  can  I  make  to  agree,  and  yet,  fool  that  I  was, 
I  thought  I  should  be  able  to  control  like  the  works 
of  a  watch  different  nations,  living  under  diverse 
skies,  in  different  climes,  and  speaking  varied  lan- 
guages." Those  who  followed  him  were  to  meet 
with  a  similar  result. 

The  second  effort  to  put  down  Protestantism  by 
arms  began  in  1618,  and  led  to  that  frightful  out- 
break of  human  virulence,  the  Thirty  Years'  War, 
which  made  Germany  a  desert,  but  left  religion  as  it 
found  it.  It  began  in  the  effort  of  Ferdinand  II.,  a 
bigoted  Catholic  emperor,  to  suppress  free  thought 
in  Bohemia,  by  forbidding  the  building  of  Protes- 
tant churches.  His  order  led  to  instant  hostilities. 
Count  Thurn,  a  fierce  Bohemian  nobleman,  had  the 
emperor's  representatives,  Slawata  and  Martinez  by 
name,  flung  out  of  the  window  of  the  council- 
chamber  in  Prague,  a  height  of  more  than  a  hundred 
feet,  and  their  secretary  Fabricius  flung  after  them. 
It  was  a  terrible  fall,  but  they  escaped,  for  a  pile  of 
litter  and  old  papers  lay  below.  Fabricius  fell  on 
Martinez,  and,  polite  to  the  last,  begged  his  pardon 
for  coming  down  upon  him  so  rudely.  This  act  of 
violence,  which  occurred  on  May  23,  1618,  is  looked 
upon  as  the  true  beginning  of  the  dreadful  war. 

Matters  moved  rapidly.  Bohemia  was  conquered 
by  the  imperial  armies,  its  nobles  exiled  or  executed, 
its  religion  suppressed.  This  victory  gained,  an 
effort  was  made  to  suppress  Lutheranism  in  Upper 
Austria.  It  led  to  a  revolt,  and  soon  the  whole 
country  was  in  a  flame  of  war.  Tilly  and  Pappen- 
heim,  the   imperial  commanders,  swept  all  before 


252  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

them,  until  they  suddenly  found  themselves  opposed 
by  a  man  their  equal  in  ability,  Count  Mansfeld,  who 
had  played  an  active  part  in  the  Bohemian  wars. 

A  diminutive,  deformed,  sickly-looking  man  was 
Mansfeld,  but  he  had  a  hero's  soul  in  his  small  frame. 
No  sooner  was  his  standard  raised  than  the  Protes- 
tants flocked  to  it,  and  he  quickly  found  himself  at 
the  head  of  twenty  thousand  men.  But  as  the 
powerful  princes  failed  to  support  him  he  was  com- 
pelled to  subsist  his  troops  by  pillage,  an  example 
which  was  followed  by  all  the  leaders  during  that 
dreadful  contest. 

And  now  began  a  frightful  struggle,  a  game  of 
war  on  the  chess-board  of  a  nation,  in  which  the 
people  were  the  helpless  pawns  and  suffered  alike 
from  friends  and  foes.  Neither  side  gained  any 
decisive  victory,  but  both  sides  plundered  and  rav- 
aged, the  savage  soldiery,  unrestrained  and  unre- 
strainable,  committing  cruel  excesses  wherever  they 
came. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  which  preceded  the 
appearance  of  Wallenstein  on  the  field  of  action. 
The  soldiers  led  by  Tilly  were  those  of  the  Catholic 
League ;  Ferdinand,  the  emperor,  had  no  troops  of 
his  own  in  the  field  ;  Wallenstein,  discontented  that 
the  war  should  be  going  on  without  him,  offered  to 
raise  an  imperial  army,  paying  the  most  of  its  ex- 
penses himself,  but  stipulating,  in  return,  that  he 
should  have  unlimited  control.  The  emperor  granted 
all  his  demands,  and  made  him  Duke  of  Friedland 
as  a  preliminary  reward,  Wallenstein  agreeing  to 
raise  ten  thousand  men. 


THE   FORTUNES   OP   WALLENSTEIN.  253 

No  sooner  was  his  standard  raised  than  crowds 
flocked  to  it,  and  an  army  of  forty  thousand  soldiers 
of  fortune  were  soon  ready  to  follow  him  to  plunder 
and  victory.  His  fame  as  a  soldier,  and  the  free 
pillage  which  he  promised,  had  proved  irresistible 
inducements  to  war-loving  adventurers  of  all  nations 
and  creeds.  In  a  few  months  the  army  was  raised 
and  fully  equipped,  and  in  the  autumn  of  1625  took 
the  field,  growing  as  it  marched. 

Denmark  had  joined  in  the  war  in  favor  of  the 
Protestant  cause,  and  Tilly,  jealous  of  Wallenstein, 
vigorously  sought  to  overcome  his  new  adversaries 
before  his  rival  could  reach  the  field  of  conflict.  He 
succeeded,  too,  in  great  measure,  reducing  many  of 
the  Protestant  towns  and  routing  the  army  of  the 
Danish  king. 

Meanwhile,  Wallenstein  came  on,  his  army  grow- 
ing until  sixty  thousand  men — a  wild  and  undisci- 
plined horde — followed  his  banners.  Mansfeld,  who 
had  received  reinforcements  from  England  and  Hol- 
land, opposed  him,  but  was  too  weak  to  face  him 
successfully  in  the  field.  He  was  defeated  on  the 
bridge  of  Dessau,  and  marched  rapidly  into  Silesia, 
whither  Wallenstein,  much  to  his  chagrin,  was  com- 
pelled to  follow  him. 

From  Silesia,  Mansfeld  marched  into  Hungary, 
still  pursued  by  Wallenstein.  Here  he  was  badly 
received,  because  he  had  not  brought  the  money 
expected  by  the  king.  His  retreat  cut  off,  and  with- 
out the  means  of  procuring  supplies  in  that  remote 
country,  the  valiant  warrior  found  himself  at  the 
end  of  his  resources.  Eeturn  was  impossible,  for 
22 


254  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Wallenstein  occupied  the  roads.  In  the  end  he  was 
forced  to  sell  his  artillery  and  ammunition,  disband 
his  army,  and  proceed  southward  towards  Yenice, 
whence  he  hoped  to  reach  England  and  procure  a 
new  supply  of  funds.  But  on  arriving  at  the  village 
of  TJrakowitz,  in  Bosnia,  his  strength,  worn  out  by 
incessant  struggles  and  fatigues,  gave  way,  and  the 
noble  warrior,  the  last  hope  of  Protestantism  in 
Germany,  as  it  seemed,  breathed  his  last,  a  disheart- 
ened fugitive. 

On  feeling  the  approach  of  death,  he  had  himself 
clothed  in  his  military  coat,  and  his  sword  buckled 
to  his  side.  Thus  equipped,  and  standing  between 
two  friends,  who  supported  him  upright,  the  brave 
Mansfeld  breathed  his  last.  His  death  left  his  cause 
almost  without  a  supporter,  for  the  same  year  his 
friend,  Duke  Christian  of  Brunswick,  expired,  and 
with  them  the  Protestants  lost  their  only  able 
leaders ;  King  Christian  of  Denmark,  their  principal 
successor,  being  greatly  wanting  in  the  requisites  of 
military  genius. 

The  Protestant  cause  in  Germany  seemed  lost. 
All  opposition,  for  the  time,  was  at  an  end.  Tilly, 
whose  purposes  were  the  complete  restoration  of 
Catholicism  in  Germany,  held  the  provinces  con- 
quered by  him  with  an  iron  hand.  "Wallenstein, 
who  seemingly  had  in  view  the  weakening  of  the 
power  of  the  League  and  the  raising  of  the  emperor 
to  absolutism,  broke  down  all  opposition  before  his 
irresistible  march. 

His  army  had  gradually  increased  till  it  numbered 
one  hundred  thousand  men, — a  host  which  it  cost 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   WALLENSTEIN.  255 

him  nothing  to  support,  for  it  subsisted  on  the  de- 
vastated country.  He  advanced  through  Silesia, 
driving  all  his  enemies  before  him ;  marched  into 
Holstein,  in  order  to  force  the  King  of  Denmark  to 
leave  Germany  ;  invaded  and  devastated  Jutland  and 
Silesia ;  and  added  to  his  immense  estate  the  duchy 
of  Sagan  and  the  whole  of  Mecklenburg,  which  lat- 
ter was  given  him  by  the  emperor  in  payment  of 
his  share  of  the  expenses  of  the  war.  This  raised 
him  to  the  rank  of  prince.  As  for  Denmark,  he 
proposed  to  get  rid  of  its  king  and  have  Ferdinand 
elected  in  his  stead. 

The  career  of  this  incomprehensible  man  had  been 
strangely  successful.  Not  a  shadow  of  reverse  had 
met  him.  What  he  really  intended  no  one  knew. 
As  his  enemies  decreased  he  increased  his  forces 
"Was  it  the  absolutism  of  the  emperor  or  of  himself 
that  he  sought?  Several  of  the  princes  appealed 
to  Ferdinand  to  relieve  their  dominions  from  the 
oppressive  burden  of  war,  but  the  emperor  was 
weaker  than  his  general,  and  dared  not  act  against 
him.  The  whole  of  north  Germany  lay  prostrate 
beneath  the  powerful  warrior,  and  obeyed  his  slight- 
est nod.  He  lived  in  a  style  of  pomp  and  ostenta- 
tion far  beyond  that  of  the  emperor  himself.  His 
officers  imitated  him  in  extravagance.  Even  his 
soldiers  lived  in  luxury.  To  support  this  lavish  dis- 
play many  thousands  of  human  beings  languished 
in  misery,  starvation  threatened  whole  provinces, 
and  destitution  everywhere  prevailed. 

From  Mecklenburg,  Wallenstein  fixed  his  ambi- 
tious eyes  on  Pomerania,  which  territory  he  grew 


256  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

desirous  of  adding  to  his  dominions.  Here  was  an 
important  commercial  city,  Straslund,  a  member  of 
the  Hanseatic  League,  and  one  which  enjoyed  the 
privilege  of  self-government.  It  had  contributed 
freely  to  the  expenses  of  the  imperial  army,  but 
Wallenstein,  in  furtherance  of  his  designs  upon 
Pomerania,  now  determined  to  place  in  it  a  garrison 
of  his  own  troops. 

This  was  an  interference  with  their  vested  rights 
which  roused  the  wrath  of  the  citizens  of  Straslund. 
They  refused  to  receive  the  troops  sent  them :  Wal- 
lenstein, incensed,  determined  to  teach  the  insolent 
burghers  a  lesson,  and  bade  General  Arnim  to  march 
against  and  lay  siege  to  the  place,  doubting  not  that 
it  would  be  quickly  at  its  mercy. 

He  was  destined  to  a  disappointment.  Straslund 
was  to  put  the  first  check  upon  his  uniformly  suc- 
cessful career.  The  citizens  defended  their  walls 
with  obstinate  courage.  Troops,  ammunition,  and 
provisions  were  sent  them  from  Denmark  and 
Sweden,  and  they  continued  to  oppose  a  successful 
resistance  to  every  effort  to  reduce  them. 

This  unlooked-for  perversity  of  the  Straslunders 
filled  the  soul  of  Wallenstein  with  rage.  It  seemed 
to  him  unexampled  insolence  that  these  merchants 
should  dare  defy  his  conquering  troops.  "  Even  if 
this  Straslund  be  linked  by  chains  to  the  very 
heavens  above,"  he  declared,  "  still  I  swear  it  shall 
fall!" 

He  advanced  in  person  against  the  city  and  as- 
sailed it  with  his  whole  army,  bringing  all  the  re- 
sources at  his  command  to  bear  against  its  walls 


THE   FORTUNES   OP   WALLENSTEIN.  257 

But  with  heroic  courage  the  citizens  held  their  own. 
Weeks  passed,  while  he  continued  to  thunder  upon 
it  with  shot  and  shell.  The  Straslunders  thundered 
back.  His  most  furious  assaults  were  met  by  them 
with  a  desperate  valor  which  in  time  left  his  ranks 
twelve  thousand  men  short.  In  the  end,  to  his  un- 
utterable chagrin,  he  was  forced  to  raise  the  siege 
and  march  away,  leaving  the  valiant  burghers  lords 
of  their  homes. 

The  war  now  seemingly  came  to  its  conclusion. 
The  King  of  Denmark  asked  for  peace,  which  the 
emperor  granted,  and  terms  were  signed  at  Lubeck  on 
May  12,  1629.  The  contest  was,  for  the  time  being,  at 
an  end,  for  there  was  no  longer  any  one  to  oppose 
the  emperor.  For  twelve  years  it  had  continued, 
its  ravages  turning  rich  provinces  into  deserts,  and 
making  beggars  and  fugitives  of  wealthy  citizens. 
The  opposition  of  the  Protestants  was  at  an  end, 
and  there  were  but  two  disturbing  elements  of  the 
seemingly  pacific  situation. 

One  of  these  was  the  purpose  which  the  Catholic 
party  soon  showed  to  suppress  Protestantism  and 
bring  what  they  considered  the  heretical  provinces 
again  under  the  dominion  of  the  pope.  The  other 
was  the  army  of  Wallenstein,  whose  intolerable 
tyranny  over  friends  and  foes  alike  had  now  passed 
the  bounds  of  endurance.  From  all  sides  complaints 
reached  the  emperor's  ears,  charges  of  pillage,  burn- 
ings, outrages,  and  shameful  oppressions  of  every 
sort  inflicted  by  the  imperial  troops  upon  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  land.  So  many  were  the  complaints 
that  it  was  impossible  to  disregard  them.  The 
IT.— r  22* 


258  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

whole  body  of  princes — every  one  of  whom  cordially 
hated  Wallenstein — joined  in  the  outcry,  and  in  the 
end  Ferdinand,  with  some  hesitation,  yielded  to 
their  wishes,  and  bade  the  general  to  disband  his 
forces. 

Would  he  obey?  That  was  next  to  be  seen.  The 
mighty  chief  was  in  a  position  to  defy  princes  and 
emperor  if  he  chose.  The  plundering  bands  who 
followed  him  were  his  own,  not  the  emperor's  sol- 
diers ;  they  knew  but  one  master  and  were  ready  to 
obey  his  slightest  word ;  had  he  given  the  order  to 
advance  upon  Vienna  and  drive  the  emperor  himself 
from  his  throne,  there  is  no  question  but  that  they 
would  have  obeyed.  As  may  be  imagined,  then, 
the  response  of  Wallenstein  was  awaited  in  fear  and 
anxiety.  Should  ambition  counsel  him  to  revolution, 
the  very  foundations  of  the  empire  might  be  shaken. 
What,  then,  was  the  delight  of  princes  and  people 
when  word  came  that  he  had  accepted  the  emperor's 
command  without  a  word,  and  at  once  ordered  the 
disbanding  of  his  troops. 

The  stars  were  perhaps  responsible  for  this.  As- 
trology was  his  passion,  and  the  planetary  conjunc- 
tions seemed  then  to  be  in  favor  of  submission. 
The  man  was  superstitious,  with  all  his  clear-sighted 
ability,  and  permitted  himself  to  be  governed  by 
influences  which  have  long  since  lost  their  force 
upon  men's  minds. 

"  I  do  not  complain  against  or  reproach  the  em- 
peror," he  said  to  the  imperial  deputies ;  "  the  stars 
have  already  indicated  to  me  that  the  spirit  of  the 
Elector  of  Bavaria  holds  sway  in  the  imperial  conn* 


THE    FORTUNES   OF   WALLENSTEIN.  259 

cils.  But  his  majesty,  in  dismissing  his  troops,  is 
rejecting  the  most  precious  jewel  of  his  crown." 

The  event  which  we  have  described  took  place  in 
September,  1630.  Wallenstein,  having  paid  off  and 
dispersed  his  great  army  to  the  four  winds,  retired 
to  his  duchy  of  Friedland,  and  took  up  his  residence 
at  Gitschen,  which  had  been  much  enlarged  and 
beautified  by  his  orders.  Here  he  quietly  waited 
and  observed  the  progress  of  events. 

He  had  much  of  interest  to  observe.  The  effort 
of  Ferdinand  and  his  advisers  to  drive  Protestantism 
out  of  Germany  had  produced  an  effect  which  none 
of  them  anticipated.  The  war,  which  had  seemed 
at  an  end,  was  quickly  afoot  again,  with  a  new 
leader  of  the  Protestant  cause,  new  armies,  and  new 
fortunes.  Gustavus  Adolphus,  King  of  Sweden,  had 
come  to  the  rescue  of  his  threatened  fellow-believers, 
and  before  the  army  of  Wallenstein  had  been  dis- 
solved the  work  of  the  peace-makers  was  set  aside, 
and  the  horrors  of  war  returned. 

The  dismissed  general  had  now  left  Gitschen  for 
Bohemia,  where  he  dwelt  upon  his  estates  in  a  style 
of  regal  luxury,  and  in  apparent  disregard  of  the 
doings  of  emperors  and  kings.  His  palace  in  Prague 
was  royal  in  its  adornments,  and  while  his  enemies 
were  congratulating  themselves  on  having  forced 
him  into  retirement,  he  had  Italian  artists  at  work 
painting  on  the  walls  of  this  palace  his  figure  in  tne 
character  of  a  conqueror,  his  triumphal  car  drawn 
by  four  milk-white  steeds,  while  a  star  shone  above 
his  laurel-crowned  head.  Sixty  pages,  of  noble 
birth,  richly  attired  in  blue  and  gold  velvet,  waited 


260  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

upon  him,  while  some  of  his  officers  and  chamber- 
lains had  served  the  emperor  in  the  same  rank.  In 
his  magnificent  stables  were  three  hundred  horses 
of  choice  breeds,  while  the  daily  gathering  of  dis- 
tinguished men  in  his  halls  was  not  surpassed  by  the 
assemblies  of  the  emperor  himself. 

Yet  in  his  demeanor  there  was  nothing  to  show 
that  he  entertained  a  shadow  of  his  former  ambition. 
He  affected  the  utmost  ease  and  tranquillity  of 
manner,  and  seemed  as  if  fully  content  with  his 
present  state,  and  as  if  he  cared  no  longer  who 
fought  the  wars  of  the  world. 

But  inwardly  his  ambition  had  in  no  sense  de- 
clined. He  beheld  the  progress  of  the  Swedish 
conqueror  with  secret  joy,  and  when  he  saw  Tilly 
overthrown  at  Leipsic,  and  the  fruits  of  twelve 
years  of  war  wrested  from  the  emperor  at  a  single 
blow,  his  heart  throbbed  high  with  hope.  His  hour 
of  revenge  upon  the  emperor  had  come.  Ferdinand 
must  humiliate  himself  and  come  for  aid  to  his  dis- 
missed general,  for  there  was  not  another  man  in 
the  kingdom  capable  of  saving  it  from  the  trium- 
phant foe. 

He  was  right.  The  emperor's  deputies  came. 
He  was  requested,  begged,  to  head  again  the  im- 
perial armies.  He  received  the  envoys  coldly. 
Urgent  persuasions  were  needed  to  induce  him  to 
raise  an  army  of  thirty  thousand  men.  Even  then 
he  would  not  agree  to  take  command  of  it.  He 
would  raise  it  and  put  it  at  the  emperor's  disposal. 

He  planted  his  standard ;  the  men  came ;  many  of 
them  his  old  followers.     Plenty  and  plunder  were 


THE   FORTUNES   OF   WALLENSTEIN.  261 

promised,  and  thousands  flocked  to  his  tents.  By 
March  of  1632  the  thirty  thousand  men  were  col- 
lected. Who  should  command  them?  There  was 
but  one,  and  this  the  emperor  and  Wallenstein  alike 
knew.  They  would  follow  only  the  man  to  whose 
banner  they  had  flocked. 

The  emperor  begged  him  to  take  command.  He 
consented,  but  only  on  conditions  to  which  an  em- 
peror has  rarely  agreed.  "Wallenstein  was  to  have 
exclusive  control  of  the  army,  without  interference 
of  any  kind,  was  to  be  given  irresponsible  control 
over  all  the  provinces  he  might  conquer,  was  to 
hold  as  security  a  portion  of  the  Austrian  patri- 
monial estates,  and  after  the  war  might  choose  any 
of  the  hereditary  estates  of  the  empire  for  his  seat 
of  retirement.  The  emperor  acceded,  and  Wallen- 
stein, clothed  with  almost  impel  lal  power,  marched 
to  war.  His  subsequent  fortur/s  the  next  narrative 
must  declare. 


THE  END    OF  TWO    GREAT 
SOLDIERS. 

Two  armies  faced  each  other  in  central  Bavaria, 
two  armies  on  which  the  fate  of  Germany  depended, 
those  of  Gustavus  Adolphus,  the  right  hand  of 
Protestantism,  and  of  Wallenstein,  the  hope  of 
Catholic  imperialism.  Gustavus  was  strongly  in- 
trenched in  the  vicinity  of  Nuremberg,  with  an 
army  of  but  sixteen  thousand  men.  Wallenstein 
faced  him  with  an  army  of  sixty  thousand,  yet 
dared  not  attack  him  in  his  strong  position.  He 
occupied  himself  in  efforts  to  make  his  camp  as 
impregnable  as  that  of  his  foeman,  and  the  two 
great  opponents  lay  waiting  face  to  face,  while 
famine  slowly  decimated  their  ranks. 

It  was  an  extraordinary  position.  Both  sides 
depended  for  food  on  foraging,  and  between  them 
they  had  swept  the  country  clean.  The  peasantry 
fled  in  every  direction  from  Wallenstein' s  pillaging 
troops,  who  destroyed  all  that  they  could  not  carry 
away.  It  had  become  a  question  with  the  two 
armies  which  could  starve  the  longest,  and  for  three 
months  they  lay  encamped,  each  waiting  until  famine 
should  drive  the  other  out.  Surely  such  a  situation 
had  never  before  been  known. 
262 


THE   END   OF   TWO    GREAT   SOLDIERS.  263 

What  had  preceded  this  event?  A  few  words 
will  tell.  Ferdinand  the  emperor  had,  with  the  aid 
of  Tilly  and  Wallenstein,  laid  all  Germany  prostrate 
at  his  feet.  Ferdinand  the  bigot  had,  by  his  effort 
to  impose  Catholicism  on  the  Protestant  states, 
speedily  undone  the  work  of  his  generals,  and  set 
the  war  on  foot  again.  Gustavus  Adolphus,  the 
hero  of  Sweden,  had  come  to  the  aid  of  the  op- 
pressed Protestants  of  Germany,  borne  down  all 
before  him,  and  quickly  won  back  northern  Germany 
from  the  oppressor's  hands. 

And  now  the  cruelty  of  that  savage  war  reached 
its  culminating  point.  When  Germany  submitted 
to  the  emperor,  one  city  did  not  submit.  Magde- 
burg still  held  out.  All  efforts  to  subdue  it  proved 
fruitless,  and  it  continued  free  and  defiant  when  all 
the  remainder  of  Germany  lay  under  the  emperor's 
control. 

It  was  to  pay  dearly  for  the  courage  of  its  citizens. 
When  the  war  broke  out  again,  Magdeburg  was 
besieged  by  Tilly  with  his  whole  force.  After  a 
most  valiant  defence  it  was  taken  by  storm,  and  a 
scene  of  massacre  and  ruin  followed  without  a  par- 
allel in  modern  wars.  When  it  ended,  Magdeburg 
was  no  more.  Of  its  buildings  all  were  gone,  except 
the  cathedral  and  one  hundred  and  thirty-seven 
houses.  Of  its  inhabitants  all  had  perished,  except 
some  four  thousand  who  had  taken  refuge  in  the 
cathedral.  Man,  woman,  and  child,  the  sword  had 
slain  them  all,  the  remorseless  Tilly  refusing  to 
order  a  cessation  of  the  massacre.  All  Europe 
thrilled  with  horror  at  the  dreadful  news,  and  from 


264  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

that  day  forward  fortune  fled  from  the  banners  of 
the  murderer. 

On  September  7,  1631,  the  armies  of  Gustavus 
and  Tilly  met  at  Leipsic,  and  a  terrible  battle  en- 
sued, in  which  the  imperialists  were  completely  de- 
feated and  all  the  fruits  of  their  former  victories 
torn  from  their  hands.  In  the  following  year  the 
murderous  Tilly  had  his  thigh  shattered  by  a  cannon- 
ball,  and  died  in  excruciating  agonies  which  all  must 
say  that  he  richly  deserved. 

Such  were  the  preludes  to  the  scene  we  have  de- 
scribed. The  Lutheran  princes  everywhere  joined  the 
victorious  Gustavus ;  Austria  itself  was  threatened  by 
his  irresistible  arms;  and  the  emperor,  in  despair, 
called  Wallenstein  again  to  the  command,  yielding  to 
the  most  extreme  demands  of  this  imperious  chief. 

The  next  scene  was  that  we  have  described,  in 
which  the  armies  of  Gustavus  and  Wallenstein  lay 
face  to  face  at  Nuremberg,  each  waiting  until  starva- 
tion should  force  the  other  to  fight  or  to  retreat. 

Gustavus  had  sent  for  reinforcements,  and  his 
army  steadily  grew.  That  of  Wallenstein  dwindled 
away  under  the  assaults  of  famine  and  pestilence. 
A  large  convoy  of  provisions  intended  for  Wallen- 
stein was  seized  by  the  Swedes.  Soon  afterwards 
Gustavus  was  so  strongly  reinforced  that  his  army 
grew  to  seventy  thousand  men.  At  his  back  lay 
Nuremberg,  his  faithful  ally,  ready  to  aid  him  with 
thirty  thousand  fighting  men  besides.  As  his  force 
grew  that  of  Wallenstein  shrank,  until  by  the  end 
of  the  siege  pestilence  and  want  had  reduced  his 
army  to  twenty-four  thousand  men. 


THE   END   OF   TWO    GREAT   SOLDIER3.  265 

The  Swedes  were  the  first  to  yield  in  this  game  of 
s  ;arvation.  As  their  numbers  grew  their  wants  in- 
creased, and  at  length,  furious  with  famine,  they 
made  a  desperate  assault  upon  the  imperial  camp. 
They  were  driven  back,  with  heavy  loss.  Two 
weeks  more  Gustavus  waited,  and  then,  despairing 
of  drawing  his  opponent  from  his  works,  he  broke 
camp  and  marched  with  sounding  trumpets  past 
his  adversary's  camp,  who  quietly  let  him  go.  The 
Swedes  had  lost  twenty  thousand  men,  and  Nurem- 
berg ten  thousand  of  her  inhabitants,  during  this 
period  of  hunger  and  slaughter. 

This  was  in  September,  1632.  In  November  of 
the  same  year  the  two  armies  met  again,  on  the 
plain  of  Liitzen,  in  Saxony,  not  far  from  the  scene 
of  Tilly's  defeat,  a  year  before.  Wallenstein,  on  the 
retreat  of  G-ustavus,  had  set  fire  to  his  own  encamp- 
ment and  marched  away,  burning  the  villages  around 
Nuremberg  and  wasting  the  country  as  he  advanced, 
with  Saxony  as  his  goal.  Gustavus,  who  had  at  first 
marched  southward  into  the  Catholic  states,  hastened 
to  the  relief  of  his  allies.  On  the  15th  of  November 
the  two  great  opponents  came  once  more  face  to 
face,  prepared  to  stake  the  cause  of  religious  free- 
dom in  Germany  on  the  issue  of  battle. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  16th  Gustavus  mar 
shalled  his  forces,  determined  that  that  day  should 
settle  the  question  of  victory  or  defeat.  Wallen 
stein  had  weakened  his  ranks  by  sending  Count 
Pappenheim  south  on  siege  duty,  and  the  Swedish 
king,  without  waiting  for  reinforcements,  decided 
on  an  instant  attack. 


266  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Unluckily  for  him  the  morning  dawned  in  fog 
The  entire  plain  lay  shrouded.  It  was  not  until 
after  eleven  o'clock  that  the  mist  rose  and  the  sun 
shone  on  the  plain.  During  this  interval  Count 
Pappenheim,  for  whom  Wallenstein  had  sent  in 
haste  the  day  before,  was  speeding  north  by  forced 
marches,  and  through  the  chance  of  the  fog  was 
enabled  to  reach  the  field  while  the  battle  was  at  its 
height. 

The  troops  were  drawn  up  in  battle  array,  the 
Swedes  singing  to  the  accompaniment  of  drums  and 
trumpets  Luther's  stirring  hymn,  and  an  ode  com- 
posed by  the  king  himself:  "  Fear  not,  thou  little 
flock."  They  were  strongly  contrasted  with  the 
army  of  their  foe,  being  distinguished  by  the  ab- 
sence of  armor,  light-colored  (chiefly  blue)  uniforms, 
quickness  of  motion,  exactness  of  discipline,  and  the 
lightness  of  their  artillery.  The  imperialists,  on  the 
contrary,  wore  old-fashioned,  close-fitting  uniforms, 
mostly  yellow  in  color,  cuirasses,  thigh-pieces,  and 
helmets,  and  were  marked  by  slow  movements,  ab- 
sence of  discipline,  and  the  heaviness  and  unman 
ageable  character  of  their  artillery.  The  battle 
was  to  be,  to  some  extent,  a  test  of  excellence 
between  the  new  and  the  old  ideas  in  war. 

At  length  the  fog  rose  and  the  sun  broke  out,  and 
both  sides  made  ready  for  the  struggle.  Wallen- 
stein, though  suffering  from  a  severe  attack  of  his 
persistent  enemy,  the  gout,  mounted  his  horse  and 
prepared  his  troops  for  the  assault.  His  infantry 
were  drawn  up  in  squares,  with  the  cavalry  on  their 
flanks,  in  front  a  ditch  defended  by  artillery.     His 


THE   END   OF   TWO    GREAT   SOLDIERS.  267 

purpose  was  defensive,  that  of  Gustavus  offensive. 
The  Swedish  king  mounted  in  his  turn,  placed  him- 
self at  the  head  of  his  right  wing,  and,  brandishing 
his  sword,  exclaimed,  "  Now,  onward !  May  our  God 
direct  us !  Lord !  Lord  !  help  me  this  day  to  fight 
for  the  glory  of  Thy  name!"  Then,  throwing  aside 
his  cuirass,  which  annoyed  him  on  account  of  a 
slight  wound  he  had  recently  received,  he  cried, 
"God  is  my  shield!"  and  led  his  men  in  a  furious 
charge  upon  the  cannon-guarded  ditch. 

The  guns  belched  forth  their  deadly  thunders, 
many  fell,  but  the  remainder  broke  irresistibly  over 
the  defences  and  seized  the  battery,  driving  the 
imperialists  back  in  disorder.  The  cavalry,  which 
had  charged  the  black  cuirassiers  of  Wallenstein, 
was  less  successful.  They  were  repulsed,  and  the 
cuirassiers  fiercely  charged  the  Swedish  infantry  in 
flank,  driving  it  back  beyond  the  trenches. 

This  repulse  brought  on  the  great  disaster  of  the 
day.  Gustavus,  seeing  his  infantry  driven  back, 
hastened  to  their  aid  with  a  troop  of  horse,  and 
through  the  disorder  of  the  field  became  separated 
from  his  men,  only  a  few  of  whom  accompanied 
him,  among  them  Francis,  Duke  of  Saxe-Lauenburg. 
His  short-sightedness,  or  the  foggy  condition  of  the 
atmosphere,  unluckily  brought  him  too  near  a  party 
of  the  black  cuirassiers,  and  in  an  instant  a  shot 
struck  him,  breaking  his  left  arm. 

"I  am  wounded;  take  me  off  the  field,"  he  said 
to  the  Duke  of  Lauenburg,  and  turned  his  horse  to 
retire  from  the  perilous  vicinity. 

As  he  did  so  a  second  ball  struck  him  in  the  back. 


268  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

"  My  God  I  My  God !"  he  exclaimed,  falling  from  the 
saddle,  while  his  horse,  which  had  been  wounded  in 
the  neck,  dashed  away,  dragging  the  king,  whose 
foot  was  entangled  in  the  stirrup,  for  some  distance. 

The  duke  fled,  but  Luchau,  the  master  of  the 
royal  horse,  shot  the  officer  who  had  wounded  the 
king.  The  cuirassiers  advanced,  while  Leubelfing, 
the  king's  page,  a  boy  of  eighteen,  who  had  alone 
remained  with  him,  was  endeavoring  to  raise  him 
up. 

"  Who  is  he  ?"  they  asked. 

The  boy  refused  to  tell,  and  was  shot  and  mortally 
wounded. 

"  I  am  the  King  of  Sweden !"  Gustavus  is  said  to 
have  exclaimed  to  his  foes,  who  had  surrounded  and 
were  stripping  him. 

On  hearing  this  they  sought  to  carry  him  off,  but 
a  charge  of  the  Swedish  cavalry  at  that  moment 
drove  them  from  their  prey.  As  they  retired  they 
discharged  their  weapons  at  the  helpless  king,  one 
of  the  cuirassiers  shooting  him  through  the  head  as 
he  rushed  past  his  prostrate  form. 

The  sight  of  the  king's  charger,  covered  with 
blood,  and  galloping  with  empty  saddle  past  their 
ranks,  told  the  Swedes  the  story  of  the  disastrous 
event.  The  news  spread  rapidly  from  rank  to  rank, 
carrying  alarm  wherever  it  came.  Some  of  the 
generals  wished  to  retreat,  but  Duke  Bernhard  of 
Weimar  put  himself  at  the  head  of  a  regiment,  ran 
its  colonel  through  for  refusing  to  obey  him,  and 
called  on  them  to  follow  him  to  revenge  their  king. 

His  ardent  appeal  stirred  the  troops  to  new  enthu 


THE   END   OF   TWO    GREAT   SOLDIERS.  269 

siasm.  Eegardless  of  a  shot  that  carried  away  his 
hat,  Bernhard  charged  at  their  head,  broke  over  the 
trenches  and  into  the  battery,  retook  the  guns,  and 
drove  the  imperial  troops  back  in  confusion,  regain- 
ing all  the  successes  of  the  first  assault. 

The  day  seemed  won.  It  would  have  been  but 
for  the  fresh  forces  of  Pappenheim,  who  had  some 
time  before  reached  the  field,  only  to  fall  before  the 
bullets  of  the  foe.  His  men  took  an  active  part  in 
the  fray,  and  swept  backward  the  tide  of  war.  The 
Swedes  were  again  driven  from  the  battery  and 
across  the  ditch,  with  heavy  loss,  and  the  imperial- 
ists regained  the  pivotal  point  of  the  obstinate 
struggle. 

But  now  the  reserve  corps  of  the  Swedes,  led  by 
Kniphausen,  came  into  action,  and  once  more  the 
state  of  the  battle  was  reversed.  They  charged 
across  the  ditch  with  such  irresistible  force  that  the 
position  was  for  the  third  time  taken,  and  the  im- 
perialists again  driven  back.  This  ended  the  des- 
perate contest.  Wallenstein  ordered  the  retreat  to 
be  sounded.  The  dead  Gustavus  had  won  the 
victory. 

A  thick  fog  came  on  as  night  fell  and  prevented 
pursuit,  even  if  the  weariness  of  the  Swedes  would 
have  allowed  it.  They  held  the  field,  while  Wallen- 
stein hastened  away,  his  direction  of  retreat  being 
towards  Bohemia.  The  Swedes  had  won  and  lost, 
for  the  death  of  Gustavus  was  equivalent  to  a  defeat, 
and  the  emperor,  with  unseemly  rejoicing,  ordered  a 
Te  Deum  to  be  sung  in  all  his  cities. 

On  the  following  day  the  Swedes  sought  for  the 
23* 


270  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

body  of  their  king.  They  found  it  by  a  great  stone, 
which  is  still  known  as  the  Swedish  stone.  It  had 
been  so  trampled  by  the  hoofs  of  charging  horses, 
and  was  so  covered  with  blood  from  its  many 
wounds,  that  it  was  difficult  to  recognize.  The 
collar,  saturated  with  blood,  which  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  the  cuirassiers,  was  taken  to  Vienna 
and  presented  to  the  emperor,  who  is  said  to  have 
shed  tears  on  seeing  it.  The  corpse  was  laid  in  state 
before  the  Swedish  army,  and  was  finally  removed 
to  Stockholm,  where  it  was  interred. 

Thus  perished  one  of  the  great  souls  of  Europe, 
a  man  stirred  deeply  by  ambition,  full  of  hopes 
greater  than  he  himself  acknowledged,  a  military 
hero  of  the  first  rank,  and  one  disposed  to  prosecute 
war  with  a  humanity  far  in  advance  of  his  age.  He 
severely  repressed  all  excesses  of  his  soldiery,  was 
solicitous  for  the  security  of  citizens  and  peasantry, 
and  strictly  forbade  any  revengeful  reprisals  on 
Catholic  cities  for  the  frightful  work  done  by  his 
opponents  upon  the  Protestants.  Seldom  has  a  con- 
queror shown  such  magnanimity  and  nobility  of  sen- 
timent, and  his  untimely  death  had  much  to  do  with 
exposing  Germany  to  the  later  desolation  of  that 
most  frightful  of  religious  wars. 

His  defeated  foe,  Wallenstein,  was  not  long  to 
survive  him.  After  his  defeat  he  acted  in  a  manner 
that  gave  rise  to  suspicions  that  he  intended  to  play 
false  to  the  emperor.  He  executed  many  of  his 
officers  and  soldiers  in  revenge  for  their  cowardice, 
as  he  termed  it,  recruited  his  ranks  up  to  their 
former  standard, -but  remained  inactive, -while  Bern- 


THE   END   OP   TWO    GREAT    SOLDIERS.  271 

hard  of  Weimar  was  leading  the  Swedes  to  new 
successes. 

His  actions  were  so  problematical,  indeed,  that 
suspicion  of  his  motives  grew  more  decided,  and  at 
length  a  secret  conspiracy  was  raised  against  him 
with  the  connivance  of  the  emperor.  Wallenstein, 
as  if  fearful  of  an  attempt  to  rob  him  of  his  power, 
had  his  superior  officers  assembled  at  a  banquet 
given  at  Pilsen,  in  January,  1634.  A  fierce  attack 
of  gout  prevented  him  from  presiding,  but  his  firm 
adherents,  Field-Marshals  Illo  and  Terzka,  took  his 
place,  and  all  the  officers  signed  a  compact  to  adhere 
faithfully  to  the  duke  in  life  and  death  as  long  as  he 
should  remain  in  the  emperor's  service.  Some  signed 
it  who  afterwards  proved  false  to  him,  among  them 
Field-Marshal  Piccolomini,  who  afterwards  betrayed 
him. 

Just  what  designs  that  dark  and  much  revolving 
man  contemplated  it  is  not  easy  to  tell.  It  may 
have  been  treachery  to  the  emperor,  but  he  was  not 
the  man  to  freely  reveal  his  secrets.  The  one  person 
he  trusted  was  Piccolomini,  whose  star  seemed  in 
favorable  conjunction  with  his  own.  To  him  he 
made  known  some  of  his  projected  movements,  only 
to  find  in  the  end  that  his  trusted  confidant  had 
revealed  them  all  to  the  emperor. 

The  plot  against  Wallenstein  was  now  put  into 
effect,  the  emperor  ordering  his  deposition  from  his 
command,  and  appointing  General  Gablas  to  replace 
him,  while  a  general  amnesty  for  all  his  officers  was 
announced.  Wallenstein  was  quickly  taught  how 
little  he  could  trust  his  troops  and  officers,  .  Many 


272  HISTORICAL    TALES. 

of  his  generals  fell  from  him.  at  once.  A  few  regi 
ments  only  remained  faithful,  and  even  in  their 
ranks  traitors  lurked.  With  but  a  thousand  men  to 
follow  him  he  proceeded  to  Eger,  and  from  there 
asked  aid  of  Bernbard  of  Weimar,  as  if  he  purposed 
to  join  with  those  against  whom  he  had  so  long 
fought.  Bernbard  received  the  message  with  deep 
astonishment,  and  exclaimed,  moved  by  his  belief 
that  Wallenstein  was  in  league  with  the  devil, — 

"He  who  does  not  trust  in  God  can  never  be 
trusted  by  man !" 

The  great  soldier  of  fortune  was  near  his  end. 
The  stars  were  powerless  to  save  him.  It  was  not 
enough  to  deprive  him  of  his  command,  his  enemies 
dared  not  let  him  live.  One  army  gone,  his  wealth 
and  his  fame  might  soon  bring  him  another,  made 
up  of  those  mercenary  soldiers  of  all  nations,  and  of 
all  or  no  creeds,  who  would  follow  Satan  if  he  prom- 
ised them  plunder.  His  death  had  been  resolved 
upon,  and  the  agent  cbosen  for  its  execution  was 
Colonel  Butler,  one  of  the  officers  who  had  accom- 
panied him  to  Eger. 

It  was  late  in  February,  1634.  On  the  night  fixed 
for  the  murder,  Wallenstein's  faithful  friends,  Illo, 
Terzka,  Kinsky,  and  Captain  Neumann  were  at  a 
banquet  in  the  castle  of  Eger.  The  agents  of  death 
were  Colonel  Butler,  an  Irish  officer  named  Lesley, 
and  a  Scotchman  named  Gordon,  while  the  soldiers 
employed  were  a  number  of  dragoons,  chiefly  Irish. 

In  the  midst  of  the  dinner  the  doors  of  the  ban- 
queting hall  were  burst  open,  and  the  assassins 
rushed  upon  their  victims,  killing  them  as  they  sat, 


THE   END   OP   TWO    GREAT   SOLDIERS.  273 

with  the  exception  of  Terzka,  who  killed  two  of  his 
assailants  before  he  was  despatched. 

From  this  scene  of  murder  the  assassins  rushed 
to  the  quarters  of  Wallenstein.  It  was  midnight 
and  he  had  gone  to  bed.  He  sprang  up  as  his  door 
was  burst  open,  and  Captain  Devereux,  one  of  the 
party,  rushed  with  drawn  sword  into  the  room. 

"  Are  you  the  villain  who  would  sell  the  army  to 
the  enemy  and  tear  the  crown  from  the  emperor's 
head?"  he  shouted. 

Wallenstein's  only  answer  was  to  open  his  arms 
and  receive  the  blow  aimed  at  his  breast.  He  died 
without  a  word.  Thus,  with  a  brief  interval  be- 
tween, had  fallen  military  genius  and  burning  ambi- 
tion in  two  forms, — that  of  the  heroic  Swede  and 
that  of  the  ruthless  Bohemian. 


THE  SIEGE   OF  VIENNA. 

Once  more  the  Grand  Turk  was  afoot.  Straight 
on  Vienna  he  had  marched,  with  an  army  of  more 
than  two  hundred  thousand  men.  At  length  he  had 
reached  the  goal  for  which  he  had  so  often  aimed, 
the  Austrian  capital,  while  all  western  Europe  was 
threatened  by  his  arms.  The  grand  vizier,  Kara 
Mustapha,  headed  the  army,  which  had  marched 
straight  through  Hungary  without  wasting  time  in 
petty  sieges,  and  hastened  towards  the  imperial  city 
vvith  scarce  a  barrier  in  its  path. 

Consternation  filled  the  Viennese  as  the  vast  army 
of  the  Turks  rolled  steadily  nearer  and  nearer,  pil- 
laging the  country  as  it  came,  and  moving  onward 
as  irresistibly  and  almost  as  destructively  as  a  lava 
flow.  The  emperor  and  his  court  fled  in  terror. 
Many  of  the  wealthy  inhabitants  followed,  bearing 
with  them  such  treasures  as  they  could  convey.  The 
land  lay  helpless  under  the  shadow  of  terror  which 
the  coming  host  threw  far  before  its  columns. 

But  pillage  takes  time.  The  Turks,  through  the 
greatness  of  their  numbers,  moved  slowly.  Some 
time  was  left  for  action.  The  inhabitants  of  the 
city,  taking  courage,  armed  for  defence.  The  Duke 
of  Lorraine,  whose  small  army  had  not  ventured  to 
274 


THE   SIEGE   OP   VIENNA.  275 

face  the  foe,  left  twelve  thousand  men  in  the  city, 
and  drew  back  with  the  remainder  to  wait  for  rein- 
forcements. Count  Eiidiger  of  Stahrenberg  was  left 
in  command,  and  made  all  haste  to  put  the  im- 
perilled city  in  a  condition  of  defence. 

On  came  the  Turks,  the  smoke  of  burning  villages 
the  signal  of  their  approach.  On  the  14th  of  June, 
1683,  their  mighty  army  appeared  before  the  walls, 
and  a  city  of  tents  was  built  that  covered  a  space 
of  six  leagues  in  extent. 

Their  camp  was  arranged  in  the  form  of  a  cres- 
cent, enclosing  within  its  boundaries  a  promiscuous 
mass  of  soldiers  and  camp-followers,  camels,  and 
baggage-wagons,  which  seemed  to  extend  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach.  In  the  centre  was  the  gorgeous 
tent  of  the  vizier,  made  of  green  silk,  and  splendid 
with  its  embroidery  of  gold,  silver,  and  precious 
stones,  while  inside  it  was  kept  the  holy  standard 
of  the  prophet.  Marvellous  stories  are  told  of  the 
fountains,  baths,  gardens,  and  other  appliances  of 
Oriental  luxury  with  which  the  vizier  surrounded 
himself  in  this  magnificent  tent. 

Two  days  after  the  arrival  of  the  Turkish  host 
the  trenches  were  opened,  the  cannon  placed,  and 
the  siege  of  Vienna  began.  For  more  than  two 
centuries  the  conquerors  of  Constantinople  had  kept 
their  eyes  fixed  on  this  city  as  a  glorious  prize. 
JSTow  they  had  reached  it,  and  the  thunder  of  their 
cannon  around  its  walls  was  full  of  threat  for  the 
West.  Vienna  once  theirs,  it  was  not  easy  to  say 
where  their  career  of  conquest  would  be  stayed. 

Fortunately,  Count  Kudiger  was  an  able  and  vigi- 


276  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

lant  soldier,  and  defended  the  city  with  a  skill  and 
obstinacy  that  baffled  every  effort  of  his  foes.  The 
Turks,  determined  on  victory,  thundered  upon  the 
walls  till  they  were  in  many  parts  reduced  to  heaps 
of  ruins.  With  incessant  labor  they  undermined 
them,  blew  up  the  strongest  bastions,  and  laid  their 
plans  to  rush  into  the  devoted  city,  from  which  they 
hoped  to  gain  a  glorious  booty.  But  active  as  they 
were  the  besieged  were  no  less  so.  The  damage 
done  by  day  was  repaired  by  night,  and  still  Vienna 
turned  a  heroic  face  to  its  thronging  enemies. 

Furious  assaults  were  made,  multitudes  of  the 
Turks  rushing  with  savage  cries  to  the  breaches, 
only  to  be  hurled  back  by  the  obstinate  valor  of  the 
besieged.  Every  foot  of  ground  was  fiercely  con- 
tested, the  struggle  at  each  point  being  desperate 
and  determined.  It  was  particularly  so  around  the 
Lobel  bastion,  where  scarcely  an  inch  of  ground  was 
left  unstained  by  the  blood  of  the  struggling  foes. 

Count  Eiidiger,  although  severely  wounded,  did  noc 
let  his  hurt  reduce  his  vigilance.  Daily  he  had  him- 
self carried  round  the  circle  of  the  works,  directing 
and  cheering  his  men.  Bishop  Kolonitsch  attended 
the  wounded,  and  with  such  active  and  useful  zeal 
that  the  grand  vizier  sent  him  a  threat  that  he  would 
have  his  head  for  his  meddling.  Despite  this  fulmi- 
nation  of  fury,  the  worthy  bishop  continued  to  use 
his  threatened  head  in  the  service  of  mercy  and 
sympathy. 

But  the  numbers  of  the  garrison  grew  rapidly 
less,  and  their  incessant  duty  wore  them  out  with 
fatigue.     The  commandant  was  forced  to  threaten 


THE   SIEGE   OF   VIENNA.  277 

death  to  any  sentinel  found  asleep  upon  his  post 
A  fire  broke  out  which  was  only  suppressed  with 
the  greatest  exertion.  Famine  also  began  to  invade 
the  city,  and  the  condition  of  the  besieged  grew 
daily  more  desperate.  Their  only  hope  lay  in  relief 
from  without,  and  this  did  not  come. 

Two  months  passed  slowly  by.  The  Turks  had 
made  a  desert  of  the  surrounding  country,  and  held 
many  thousands  of  its  inhabitants  as  prisoners  in 
their  camp.  Step  by  step  they  gained  upon  the 
defenders.  By  the  end  of  August  they  possessed 
the  moat  around  the  city  walls.  On  the  4th  of 
September  a  mine  was  sprung  under  the  Burg  bas- 
tion, with  such  force  that  it  shook  half  the  city  like 
an  earthquake.  The  bastion  was  rent  and  shattered 
for  a  width  of  more  than  thirty  feet,  portions  of  its 
walls  being  hurled  far  and  wide. 

Into  the  great  breach  made  the  assailants  poured 
in  an  eager  multitude.  But  the  defenders  were 
equally  alert,  and  drove  them  back  with  loss.  On 
the  following  day  they  charged  again,  and  were 
again  repulsed  by  the  brave  Yiennese,  the  ruined 
bastion  becoming  a  very  gulf  of  death. 

The  Turks,  finding  their  efforts  useless,  resumed 
the  work  of  mining,  directing  their  efforts  against 
the  same  bastion.  On  the  10th  of  September  the 
new  mine  was  sprung,  and  this  time  with  such  effect 
that  a  breach  was  made  through  which  a  whole 
Turkish  battalion  was  able  to  force  its  way. 

This  city  now  was  in  the  last  extremity  of  danger ; 
unless  immediate  relief  came  all  would  soon  be  lost. 
The  garrison  had  been  much  reduced  by  sickness 
24 


278  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

and  wounds,  while  those  remaining  were  so  com- 
pletely  exhausted  as  to  be  almost  incapable  of  de- 
fence. Kiidiger  had  sent  courier  after  courier  to 
the  Duke  of  Lorraine  in  vain.  In  vain  the  lookouts 
swept  the  surrounding  country  with  their  eyes  in 
search  of  some  trace  of  coming  aid.  All  seemed  at 
an  end.  During  the  night  a  circle  of  rockets  was 
fired  from  the  tower  of  St.  Stephen's  as  a  signal  of 
distress.  This  done  the  wretched  Yiennese  waited 
for  the  coming  day,  almost  hopeless  of  repelling  the 
hosts  which  threatened  to  engulf  them.  At  the 
utmost  a  few  days  must  end  the  siege.  A  single 
day  might  do  it. 

That  dreadful  night  of  suspense  passed  away. 
With  the  dawn  the  wearied  garrison  was  alert,  pre- 
pared to  strike  a  last  blow  for  safety  and  defence, 
and  to  guard  the  yawning  breach  unto  death.  They 
waited  with  the  courage  of  despair  for  an  assault 
which  did  not  come.  Hurried  and  excited  move- 
ments were  visible  in  the  enemy's  camp.  Could 
succor  be  at  hand  ?  Yes,  from  the  summit  of  the 
Kahlen  Hill  came  the  distant  report  of  three  cannon, 
a  signal  that  filled  the  souls  of  the  garrison  with  joy. 
Quickly  afterwards  the  lookouts  discerned  the  glitter 
of  weapons  and  the  waving  of  Christian  banners  on 
the  hill.  The  rescuers  were  at  hand,  and  barely  in 
time  to  save  the  city  from  its  almost  triumphant  foes. 

During  the  siege  the  Christian  people  outside  had 
not  been  idle.  Bavaria,  Saxony,  and  the  lesser 
provinces  of  the  empire  mustered  their  forces  in  all 
haste,  and  sent  them  to  the  reinforcement  of  Charles 
of  Lorraine.     To  their  aid  came  Sobieski,  tne  chiv- 


THE   SIEGE   OP   VIENNA.  279 

ftlrous  King  of  Poland,  with  eighteen  thousand 
picked  men  at  his  back.  He  himself  was  looked 
upon  as  a  more  valuable  reinforcement  than  his 
whole  army.  He  had  already  distinguished  himself 
against  the  Turks,  who  feared  and  hated  him,  while 
all  Europe  looked  to  him  as  its  savior  from  the 
infidel  foe. 

There  were  in  all  about  seventy-seven  thousand 
men  in  the  army  whose  vanguard  ascended  the 
Kahlen  Hill  on  that  critical  11th  of  September,  and 
announced  its  coming  to  the  beleaguered  citizens  by 
its  three  signal  shots.  The  Turks,  too  confident  in 
their  strength,  had  thoughtlessly  failed  to  occupy 
the  heights,  and  by  this  carelessness  gave  their  foes 
a  position  of  vantage.  In  truth,  the  vizier,  proud  in 
his  numbers,  viewed  the  coming  foe  with  disdain, 
and  continued  to  pour  a  shower  of  bombs  and  balls 
upon  the  city  while  despatching  what  he  deemed 
would  be  a  sufficient  force  to  repel  the  enemy. 

On  the  morning  of  September  12  Sobieski  led  his 
troops  down  the  hill  to  encounter  the  dense  masses 
of  the  Moslems  in  the  plain  below.  This  celebrated 
chief  headed  his  men  with  his  head  partly  shaved, 
in  the  Polish  fashion,  and  plainly  dressed,  though 
he  was  attended  by  a  brilliant  retinue.  In  front 
went  an  attendant  bearing  the  king's  arms  em- 
blazoned. Beside  him  was  another  who  carried  a 
plume  on  the  point  of  his  lance.  On  his  left  rode 
his  son  James,  on  his  right  Charles  of  Lorraine. 
Before  the  battle  he  knighted  his  son  and  made  a 
stirring  address  to  his  troops,  in  which  he  told  them 
that  they  fought  not  for  Yienna  alone,  but  for  all 


280  HISTORICAL  TALES. 

Christendom ;  not  for  an  earthly  sovereign,  but  for 
the  King  of  kings. 

Early  in  the  day  the  left  wing  of  the  army  had 
attacked  and  carried  the  village  of  Nussdorf,  on  the 
Danube,  driving  out  its  Turkish  defenders  after  an 
obstinate  resistance.  It  was  about  mid-day  when 
the  King  of  Poland  led  the  right  wing  into  the  plain 
against  the  dense  battalions  of  Turkish  horsemen 
which  there  awaited  his  assault. 

The  ringing  shouts  of  his  men  told  the  enemy 
that  it  was  the  dreaded  Sobieski  whom  they  had  to 
meet,  their  triumphant  foe  on  many  a  well-fought 
field.  At  the  head  of  his  cavalry  he  dashed  upon 
their  crowded  ranks  with  such  impetuosity  as  to 
penetrate  to  their  very  centre,  carrying  before  him 
confusion  and  dismay.  So  daring  was  his  assault 
that  he  soon  found  himself  in  imminent  danger, 
having  ridden  considerably  in  advance  of  his  men. 
Only  a  few  companions  were  with  him,  while  around 
him  crowded  the  dense  columns  of  the  foe.  In  a 
few  minutes  more  he  would  have  been  overpowered 
and  destroyed,  had  not  the  German  cavalry  perceived 
his  peril  and  come  at  full  gallop  to  his  rescue,  scatter- 
ing with  the  vigor  of  their  charge  the  turbaned 
assailants,  and  snatching  him  from  the  very  hands 
of  death. 

So  sudden  and  fierce  was  the  assault,  so  poorly  led 
the  Turkish  horsemen,  and  so  alarming  to  them  the 
war-cry  of  Sobieski' s  men,  that  in  a  short  time  they 
were  completely  overthrown,  and  were  soon  in  flight 
in  all  directions.  This,  however,  was  but  a  partial 
success.     The  main  body  of  the  Turkish  army  had 


THE   SIEGE   OF  VIENNA.  281 

taken  no  part.  Their  immense  camp,  with  its  thou- 
sands  of  tents,  maintained  its  position,  and  the  bat- 
teries continued  to  bombard  the  city  as  if  in  disdain 
of  the  paltry  efforts  of  their  foes. 

Yet  it  seems  to  have  heen  rather  rage  and  alarm 
than  disdain  that  animated  the  vizier.  He  is  said  to 
have,  in  a  paroxysm  of  fury,  turned  the  scimitars 
of  his  followers  upon  the  prisoners  in  his  camp, 
slaughtering  thirty  thousand  of  these  unfortunates, 
while  bidding  his  cannoneers  to  keep  up  their  assault 
upon  the  city. 

These  evidences  of  indecision  and  alarm  in  theii 
leader  filled  the  Turks  with  dread.  They  saw  theii 
cavalry  battalions  flying  in  confusion,  heard  the  tr- 
umphant  trumpets  of  their  foes,  learned  that  the 
dreaded  Polish  king  was  at  the  head  of  the  irresisti- 
ble charging  columns,  and  yet  beheld  their  com- 
mander pressing  the  siege  as  if  no  foe  were  in  the 
field.  It  was  evident  that  the  vizier  had  lost  his 
head  through  fright.  A  sudden  terror  filled  their 
souls.  They  broke  and  fled.  While  Sobieski  and 
the  other  leaders  were  in  council  to  decide  whether 
the  battle  should  be  continued  that  evening  or  left 
till  the  next  morning,  word  was  brought  them  that 
the  enemy  was  in  full  flight,  running  away  in  every 
direction. 

They  hastened  out.  The  tidings  proved  true.  A 
panic  had  seized  the  Turks,  and,  abandoning  tents, 
cannon,  baggage,  everything,  they  were  flying  in 
wild  haste  from  the  beleaguered  walls.  The  alarm 
quickly  spread  through  their  ranks.  Those  who  had 
been  firing  on  the  city  left  their  guns  and  joined  in 
24* 


282  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

the  flight.  From  rank  to  rank,  from  division  to 
division,  it  extended,  until  the  whole  army  had  de- 
camped and  was  hastening  in  panic  terror  over  the 
plain,  hotly  pursued  by  the  death-dealing  columns 
of  the  Christian  cavalry,  and  thinking  only  of  Con- 
stantinople and  safety. 

The  booty  found  in  the  camp  was  immense.  The 
tent  of  the  grand  vizier  alone  was  valued  at  nearly 
half  a  million  dollars,  and  the  whole  spoil  was  esti- 
mated as  worth  fifteen  million  dollars.  The  king 
wrote  to  his  wife  as  follows : 

"  The  whole  of  the  enemy's  camp,  together  with 
their  artillery  and  an  incalculable  amount  of  prop- 
erty, has  fallen  into  our  hands.  The  camels  and 
mules,  together  with  the  captive  Turks,  are  driven 
away  in  herds,  while  I  myself  am  become  the  heir 
of  the  grand  vizier.  The  banner  which  was  usually 
borne  before  him,  together  with  the  standard  of 
Mohammed,  with  which  the  sultan  had  honored 
him  in  this  campaign,  and  the  tents,  wagons,  and 
baggage,  are  all  fallen  to  my  share ;  even  some  of 
the  quivers  captured  among  the  rest  are  alone  worth 
several  thousand  dollars.  It  would  take  too  long  to 
describe  all  the  other  objects  of  luxury  found  in  his 
tents,  as,  for  instance,  his  baths,  fountains,  gardens, 
and  a  variety  of  rare  animals.  This  morning  I  was 
in  the  city,  and  found  that  it  could  hardly  have 
held  out  more  than  five  days.  Never  before  did 
the  eye  of  man  see  a  work  of  equal  magnitude  de- 
spatched with  a  vigor  like  that  with  which  they  blew 
up,  and  shattered  to  pieces,  hupe  masses  of  stone 
and  rocks. ' 


THE   SIEGE   OP   VIENNA.  283 

Sobieski,  on  entering  Vienna,  was  greeted  with 
the  warmest  gratitude  and  enthusiasm  by  crowds 
of  people,  who  looked  upon  him  as  their  deliverer. 
The  governor,  Count  Eiidiger,  grasped  his  hand  with 
affection,  the  populace  followed  him  in  his  every 
movement,  while  cries  of  "Long  live  the  king!" 
everywhere  resounded.  Never  had  been  a  more 
signal  delivery,  and  the  citizens  were  beside  them- 
selves with  joy. 

In  this  siege  the  Turks  had  lost  forty-eight  thou- 
sand men.  Twenty  thousand  more  fell  on  the  day 
of  battle,  and  an  equal  number  during  the  retreat. 
It  is  said  that  in  the  tent  of  the  grand  vizier  were 
found  letters  from  Louis  XIY.  containing  the  full 
plan  of  the  siege,  and  to  the  many  crimes  of  ambi- 
tion of  this  monarch  seems  to  be  added  that  of 
bringing  this  frightful  peril  upon  Europe  for  his 
own  selfish  ends.  As  for  the  unlucky  vizier,  his 
head  was  cut  off,  by  order  of  the  angry  sultan,  on 
his  reaching  Belgrade.  This  head,  found  on  the 
taking  of  Belgrade  by  Eugene,  years  afterwards, 
was  sent  to  Bishop  Kolonitsch,  whose  own  head  the 
vizier  had  threatened  to  take  in  revenge  for  his 
labors  among  the  wounded  of  Yienna. 

The  war  with  the  Turks  continued,  with  some 
few  intermissions,  for  fifteen  years  afterwards.  It 
ended  to  the  great  advantage  of  the  Christian  armies. 
One  after  another  the  fortresses  of  Hungary  were 
wrested  from  their  hands,  and  in  the  year  1687  they 
were  totally  defeated  at  Mohacz  by  the  Duke  of 
Lorraine  and  Prince  Eugene,  and  the  whole  of  Hun- 
gary torn  from  their  grasp. 


284  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

In  1697  another  great  victory  over  them  was  won 
by  Eugene,  at  Zenta,  by  which  the  power  of  the 
Turks  was  completely  broken.  Belgrade,  which 
they  had  long  held,  fell  into  his  hands,  and  a  peace 
was  signed  which  confirmed  Austria  in  the  posses- 
sion of  all  Hungary.  From  that  time  forward  the 
terror  which  the  Turkish  name  had  so  long  inspired 
vanished,  and  the  siege  of  Yienna  may  be  looked 
upon  as  the  concluding  act  in  the  long  array  of 
invasions  of  Europe  by  the  Mongolian  hordes  of 
Asia.  It  was  to  be  followed  by  the  gradual  recov. 
ery,  now  almost  consummated,  of  their  European 
dominions  from  their  hands. 


THE   YOUTH  OF  FREDERICK 
THE  GREAT 

An  extraordinarily  rude,  coarse,  and  fierce  old 
despot  was  Frederick  William,  first  King  of  Prussia, 
son  of  the  Great  Elector  and  father  of  Frederick 
the  Great.  He  hated  France  and  the  French  lan- 
guage and  culture,  then  so  much  in  vogue  in  Eu- 
rope ;  he  despised  learning  and  science ;  ostentation 
was  to  him  a  thing  unknown ;  and  he  had  but  two 
passions,  one  being  to  possess  the  tallest  soldiers  in 
Europe,  the  other  to  have  his  own  fierce  will  in  all 
things  on  which  he  set  his  mind. 

Of  che  fear  with  which  he  inspired  many  of  his 
subjects,  and  the  methods  he  took  to  overcome  it, 
there  is  no  better  example  than  that  told  in  relation 
to  a  Jew,  whom  the  king  saw  as  he  was  riding  one 
day  through  Berlin.  The  poor  Israelite  was  slink- 
ing away  in  dread,  when  the  king  rode  up,  seized 
him,  and  asked  in  harsh  tones  what  ailed  him. 

"  Sire,  I  was  afraid  of  you,"  said  the  trembling 

captive. 

"  Fear  me!  fear  me,  do  you?"  exclaimed  the  king 
in  a  rage,  lashing  his  riding-whip  across  the  man's 
shoulders  with  every  word.     "You  dog!  I'll  teach 

vou  to  love  me  I" 

J  285 


286  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

It  was  in  some  such  fashion  that  he  sought  to 
make  his  son  love  him,  and  with  much  the  same 
result.  In  fact,  he  seemed  to  entertain  a  bitter  dis- 
like for  the  beautiful  and  delicate  boy  whom  for- 
tune had  sent  him  as  an  heir,  and  treated  him  with 
such  brutal  severity  that  the  unhappy  child  grew 
timid  and  fearful  of  his  presence.  This  the  harsh 
old  despot  ascribed  to  cowardice,  and  became  more 
violent  accordingly. 

On  one  occasion  when  young  Frederick  entered 
his  room,  something  having  happened  to  excite  his 
rage  against  him,  he  seized  him  by  the  hair,  flung 
him  violently  to  the  floor,  and  caned  him  until  he 
had  exhausted  the  strength  of  his  arm  on  the  poor 
boy's  body.  His  fury  growing  with  the  exercise  of 
it,  he  now  dragged  the  unresisting  victim  to  the 
windows,  seized  the  curtain  cord,  and  twisted  it 
tightly  around  his  neck.  Frederick  had  barely 
strength  enough  to  grasp  his  father's  hand  and 
scream  for  help.  The  old  brute  would  probably 
have  strangled  him  had  not  a  chamberlain  rushed 
in  and  saved  him  from  the  madman's  hands. 

The  boy,  as  he  grew  towards  man's  estate,  de- 
veloped tastes  which  added  to  his  father's  severity. 
The  French  language  and  literature  which  he  hated 
were  the  youth's  delight,  and  he  took  every  oppor- 
tunity to  read  the  works  of  French  authors,  and 
particularly  those  of  Yoltaire,  who  was  his  favorite 
among  writers.  This  predilection  was  not  likely  to 
overcome  the  fierce  temper  of  the  king,  who  dis- 
covered his  pursuits  and  flogged  him  unmercifully, 
thinking  to  cane  all  love  for  such  enervating  litera- 


THE  YOUTH  OF  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.    287 

ture,  as  he  deemed  it,  out  of  the  boy's  mind.  In 
this  he  failed.  Germany  in  that  day  had  little  that 
deserved  the  name  of  literature,  and  the  expanding 
intellect  of  the  active-minded  youth  turned  irresist- 
ibly towards  the  tabooed  works  of  the  French. 

In  truth,  he  needed  some  solace  for  his  expanding 
tastes,  for  his  father's  house  and  habits  were  far  from 
satisfactory  to  one  with  any  refinement  of  nature. 
The  palace  of  Frederick  William  was  little  more 
attractive  than  the  houses  of  the  humbler  citizens 
of  Berlin.  The  floors  were  carpetless,  the  rooms 
were  furnished  with  common  bare  tables  and  wooden 
chairs,  art  was  conspicuously  absent,  luxury  want- 
ing, comfort  barely  considered,  even  the  table  was 
very  parsimoniously  served. 

The  old  king's  favorite  apartment  in  all  his  places 
of  residence  was  his  smoking-room,  which  was  fur- 
nished with  a  deal  table  covered  with  green  baize 
and  surrounded  by  hard  chairs.  This  was  his  au- 
dience-chamber, his  hall  of  state,  the  room  in  which 
the  affairs  of  the  kingdom  were  decided  in  a  cloud 
of  smoke  and  amid  the  fumes  of  beer.  Here  sat 
generals  in  uniform,  ministers  of  state  wearing  their 
orders,  ambassadors  and  noble  guests  from  foreign 
realms,  all  smoking  short  Dutch  pipes  and  breath- 
ing the  vapors  of  tobacco.  Before  each  was  placed 
a  great  mug  of  beer,  and  the  beer-casks  were  kept 
freely  on  tap,  for  the  old  despot  insisted  that  all 
should  drink  or  smoke  whether  or  not  they  liked 
beer  and  tobacco,  and  he  was  never  more  delighted 
than  when  he  could  make  a  guest  drunk  or  sicken 
him  with  smoke.     For  food,  when  they  were  in  need 


288  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

of  it,  bread  and  cheese  and  similar  viands  might  be 
had. 

A  strange  picture  of  palatial  grandeur  this.  For- 
tune had  missed  Frederick  William's  true  vocation 
in  not  making  him  an  inn-keeper  in  a  German  vil- 
lage instead  of  a  king.  Around  this  smoke-shrouded 
table  the  most  important  affairs  of  state  were  dis- 
cussed. Around  it  the  rudest  practical  jokes  were 
perpetrated.  Gundling,  a  beer-bibbing  author,  whom 
the  king  made  at  once  his  historian  and  his  butt,  was 
the  principal  sufferer  from  these  frolics,  which  dis- 
played abundantly  that  absence  of  wit  and  presence 
of  brutality  which  is  the  characteristic  of  the  prac- 
tical joke.  As  if  in  scorn  of  rank  and  official  dignity, 
Frederick  gave  this  sot  and  fool  the  title  of  baron 
and  created  him  chancellor  and  chamberlain  of  the 
palace,  forcing  him  always  to  wear  an  absurdly 
gorgeous  gala  dress,  while  to  show  his  disdain  of 
learned  pursuits  he  made  him  president  of  his 
Academy  of  Sciences,  an  institution  which  was  suited 
to  the  presidency  of  a  Gundling. 

For  these  dignities  he  made  the  poor  butt  suffer. 
On  one  occasion  the  kingly  joker  had  a  brace  of 
bear  cubs  laid  in  Gundling's  bed,  and  the  drunken 
historian  tossed  in  between  them,  with  little  heed 
of  the  danger  to  which  he  exposed  the  poor  victim 
of  his  sport.  On  another  occasion,  when  Gundling 
grew  sullen  and  refused  to  leave  his  room,  the  king 
and  his  boon  companions  besieged  him  with  rockets 
and  crackers,  which  they  flung  in  at  the  open  win- 
dow. A  third  and  more  elaborate  trick  was  the 
following.     The  king  had  the   door  of  Gundling's 


THE  YOUTH  OF  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.    289 

room  walled  up,  so  that  the  drunken  dupe  wandered 
the  palace  halls  the  whole  night  long,  vainly  seeking 
his  vanished  door,  getting  into  wrong  rooms,  dis- 
turbing sleepers  to  ask  whither  his  room  had  flown, 
and  making  the  palace  almost  as  uncomfortable  for 
its  other  inmates  as  for  himself.  He  ended  his 
journey  in  the  bear's  den,  where  he  got  a  severe 
hug  for  his  pains. 

Such  were  the  ideas  of  royal  dignity,  of  art, 
science,  and  learning,  and  of  wit  and  humor,  enter- 
tained by  the  first  King  of  Prussia,  the  coarse- 
mannered  and  brutal-minded  progenitor  of  one  of 
the  greatest  of  modern  monarchs.  His  ideas  of  mili- 
tary power  were  no  wiser  or  more  elevated.  His 
whole  soul  was  set  on  having  a  play  army,  a  brigade 
of  tall  recruits,  whose  only  merit  lay  in  their  inches 
above  the  ordinary  height  of  humanity.  Much  of 
the  revenues  of  the  kingdom  were  spent  upon  these 
giants,  whom  he  had  brought  from  all  parts  of 
Europe,  by  strategy  and  force  where  cash  and  per- 
suasion did  not  avail.  His  agents  were  everywhere 
on  the  lookout  for  men  beyond  the  usual  stature, 
and  on  more  than  one  occasion  blood  was  shed  in 
the  effort  to  kidnap  recruits,  while  some  of  his 
crimps  were  arrested  and  executed.  More  than 
once  Prussia  was  threatened  with  war  for  the  prac- 
tices of  its  king,  yet  so  eager  was  he  to  add  to  the 
number  of  his  giants  that  he  let  no  such  difficulties 
stand  in  his  way. 

His  tall  recruits  were  handsomely  paid  and  loaded 
with  favors.  To  one  Irishman  of  extraordinary 
stature  he  paid  one  thousand   pounds,  while  the 


290  HISTORICAL  TALES. 

expense  of  watching  and  guarding  him  while  bring 
ing  him  from  Ireland  was  two  hundred  pounds  more. 
It  is  said  that  in  all  twelve  million  dollars  left  the 
country  in  payment  for  these  showy  and  costly 
giants. 

By  his  various  processes  of  force,  fraud,  and  strata- 
gem he  collected  three  battalions  of  tall  show  sol- 
diers, comprising  at  one  time  nearly  five  thousand 
men.  Not  content  with  the  unaided  work  of  nature 
in  providing  giants,  he  attempted  to  raise  a  gigantic 
race  in  his  own  dominions,  marrying  his  grenadiers 
to  the  tallest  women  he  could  find.  There  is  nothing 
to  show  that  the  result  of  his  efforts  was  successful. 

The  king's  giants  found  fife  by  no  means  a  burden. 
They  enjoyed  the  highest  consideration  in  Berlin, 
were  loaded  with  favors,  and  presented  with  houses, 
lands,  and  other  evidences  of  royal  grace,  while  their 
only  duties  were  show  drills  and  ostentatious  parades. 
They  were  too  costly  and  precious  to  expose  to  the 
dangers  of  actual  war.  When  Frederick  William's 
son  came  to  the  throne  the  military  career  of  the 
giants  suddenly  ended.  They  were  disbanded,  pen- 
sioned off,  or  sent  to  invalid  institutions,  with  secret 
instructions  to  the  officers  that  if  any  of  them  tried 
to  run  away  no  hinderance  should  be  placed  in  their 
path  to  freedom. 

It  is,  however,  with  Frederick  William's  treat- 
ment of  his  son  that  we  are  principally  concerned. 
As  the  boy  grew  older  his  predilection  for  the  culture 
and  literature  of  France  increased,  and  under  the 
influence  of  his  favorite  associates,  two  young  men 
named  Katte  and  Keith,  a  degree  of  licentiousness 


THE  YOUTH  OF  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.    291 

wras  developed  in  his  habits.  To  please  his  father 
he  accepted  a  position  in  the  army,  but  took  every 
opportunity  to  throw  aside  the  hated  uniform,  dress 
in  luxurious  garments,  solace  himself  with  the  flute, 
bury  himself  among  his  books,  and  enjoy  the  society 
of  the  women  he  admired  and  the  friends  he  loved. 
He  was  frequently  forced  to  attend  the  king's 
smoking-parties,  where  he  seems  to  have  avoided 
smoking  and  drinking  as  much  as  possible,  escaping 
from  the  scene  before  it  degenerated  into  an  orgy  of 
excess,  in  which  it  was  apt  to  terminate. 

These  tastes  and  tendencies  were  not  calculated  to 
increase  the  love  of  the  brutal  old  monarch  for  his 
son,  and  the  life  of  the  boy  became  harder  to  bear 
as  he  grew  older.  His  sister  Wilhelmina  was  equally 
detested  by  the  harsh  old  king,  who  treated  them 
both  with  shameful  brutality,  knocking  them  down 
and  using  his  cane  upon  them  on  the  slightest  provo- 
cation, confining  them  and  sending  them  food  unfit 
to  eat,  omitting  to  serve  them  at  table,  and  using 
disgusting  means  to  render  their  food  unpalatable. 

"  The  king  almost  starved  my  brother  and  me," 
says  the  princess.  "He  performed  the  office  of 
carver,  and  helped  everybody  excepting  us  two,  and 
when  there  happened  to  be  something  left  in  a  dish, 
he  would  spit  upon  it  to  prevent  us  from  eating  it. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  was  treated  with  abundance  of 
abuse  and  invectives,  being  called  all  day  long  by  all 
sorts  of  names,  no  matter  who  was  present.  The 
king's  anger  was  sometimes  so  violent  that  he  drove 
my  brother  and  me  away,  and  forbade  us  to  appear 
in  his  presence  except  at  meal-times." 


292  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

This  represented  the  state  of  affairs  when  they 
were  almost  grown  up,  and  is  a  remarkable  picture 
of  court  habits  and  manners  in  Germany  in  the 
early  part  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  scene 
we  have  already  described,  in  which  the  king  at- 
tempted to  strangle  his  son  with  the  curtain  cord, 
occurred  when  Frederick  was  in  his  nineteenth  year, 
and  was  one  of  the  acts  which  gave  rise  to  his  reso- 
lution to  run  away,  the  source  of  so  many  sorrows. 

Poor  Frederick's  lot  had  become  too  hard  to  bear. 
He  was  bent  on  flight.  His  mother  was  the  daughter 
of  George  I.  of  England,  and  he  hoped  to  find  at 
the  English  court  the  happiness  that  failed  him  at 
home.  He  informed  his  sister  of  his  purpose,  saying 
that  he  intended  to  put  it  into  effect  during  a  journey 
which  his  father  was  about  to  make,  and  in  which 
opportunities  for  flight  would  arise.  Katte,  he  said, 
was  in  his  interest;  Keith  would  join  him;  he  had 
made  with  them  all  the  arrangements  for  his  flight. 
His  sister  endeavored  to  dissuade  him,  but  in  vain. 
His  father's  continued  brutality,  and  particularly  his 
use  of  the  cane,  had  made  the  poor  boy  desperate. 
He  wrote  to  Lieutenant  Katte, — 

"I  am  off,  my  dear  Katte.  I  have  taken  such 
precautions  that  I  have  nothing  to  fear.  I  shall  pass 
through  Leipsic,  where  I  shall  assume  the  name  of 
Marquis  d'Ambreville.  I  have  already  sent  word  to 
Keith,  who  will  proceed  direct  to  England.  Lose 
no  time,  for  I  calculate  on  finding  you  at  Leipsic. 
Adieu,  be  of  good  cheer." 

Tne  king's  journey  took  place.  Frederick  accom- 
panied him,  his  mind  full  of  kis  projected  flight 


THE  YOUTH  OF  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.    293 

The  king  added  to  his  resolution  by  ill-treatment 
during  the  journey,  and  taunted  him  as  he  had  often 
done  before,  saying, — 

11  If  my  father  had  treated  me  so,  I  would  soon 
have  run  away  j  but  you  have  no  heart ;  you  are  a 
coward." 

This  added  to  the  prince's  resolution.  He  wrote 
to  Katte  at  Berlin,  repeating  to  him  his  plans.  But 
now  the  chapter  of  accidents,  which  have  spoiled  so 
many  well-laid  plots,  began.  In  sending  this  letter 
he  directed  it  "via  Nurnberg,"  but  in  his  haste  or 
agitation  forgot  to  insert  Berlin.  By  ill  luck  there 
was  a  cousin  of  Katte's,  of  the  same  name,  at 
Erlangen,  some  twelve  miles  off.  The  letter  was 
delivered  to  and  read  by  him.  He  saw  the  impor- 
tance of  its  contents,  and,  moved  by  an  impulse  of 
loyalty,  sent  it  by  express  to  the  king  at  Frankfort. 

Another  accident  came  from  Frederick's  friend 
Keith  being  appointed  lieutenant,  his  place  as  page 
to  the  prince  being  taken  by  his  brother,  who  was 
as  stupid  as  the  elder  Keith  was  acute.  The  royal 
party  had  halted  for  the  night  at  a  village  named 
Steinfurth.  This  the  prince  determined  to  make  the 
scene  of  his  escape,  and  bade  his  page  to  call  him  at 
four  in  the  morning,  and  to  have  horses  ready,  as 
he  proposed  to  make  an  early  morning  call  upon 
some  pretty  girls  at  a  neighboring  hamlet.  He 
deemed  the  boy  too  stupid  to  trust  with  the  truth. 

Young  Keith  managed  to  spoil  all.     Instead  of 

waking  the  prince,  he  called   his  valet,  who  was 

really  a   spy  of  the  king's,   and   who,   suspecting 

something  to  be   amiss,   pretended   to   fall    asleep 

25* 


294  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

again,  while  needfully  watching.  Frederick  soon 
after  awoke,  put  on  a  coat  of  French  cut  instead  of 
his  uniform,  and  went  out.  The  valet  immediate^ 
roused  several  officers  of  the  king's  suite,  and  told 
them  his  suspicions.  Much  disturbed,  they  hurried 
after  the  prince. 

After  searching  through  the  village,  they  found 
him  at  the  horse-market  leaning  against  a  cart.  His 
dress  added  to  their  suspicions,  and  they  asked  him 
respectfully  what  he  was  doing  there.  He  answered 
sharply,  angry  at  being  discovered. 

"  For  God's  sake,  change  your  coat !"  exclaimed 
Colonel  Eochow.  "The  king  is  awake,  and  will 
start  in  half  an  hour.  What  would  be  the  conse- 
quence if  he  were  to  see  you  in  this  dress  ?" 

"I  promise  you  that  I  will  be  ready  before  the 
king,"  said  Frederick.  "  I  only  mean  to  take  a  little 
turn." 

While  they  were  arguing,  the  page  arrived  with 
the  horses.  The  prince  seized  the  bridle  of  one  of 
them,  and  would  have  leaped  upon  it  but  for  the 
interference  of  those  around  him,  who  forced  him  to 
return  to  the  barn  in  which  the  royal  party  had 
found  its  only  accommodation  for  that  night.  Here 
he  was  obliged  to  put  on  his  uniform,  and  to  restrain 
his  anger. 

During  the  day  the  valet  and  others  informed  the 
king  of  what  had  occurred.  He  said  nothing,  as 
there  were  no  proofs  of  the  prince's  purpose.  That 
night  they  reached  Frankfort.  Here  the  king  re- 
ceived, the  next  morning,  the  letter  sent  him  by 
Katte's  cousin.     He  showed  it  to  two  of  his  officers, 


THE  YOUTH  OP  FREDERICK  THE  OREAT.    295 

and  bade  them  on  peril  of  their  heads  to  keep  a 
close  watch  on  the  prince,  and  to  take  him  imme- 
diately to  the  yacht  on  which  the  party  proposed  to 
travel  the  next  day  by  water  to  Wesel. 

The  king  embarked  the  next  morning,  and  as 
soon  as  he  saw  the  prince  his  smothered  rage  burst 
into  fury.  He  grasped  him  violently  by  the  collar, 
tore  his  hair  out  by  the  roots,  and  struck  him  in  the 
face  with  the  knob  of  his  stick  till  the  blood  ran. 
Only  by  the  interference  of  the  two  officers  was  the 
unhappy  youth  saved  from  more  extreme  violence. 

His  sword  was  taken  from  him,  his  effects  were 
seized  by  the  king,  and  his  papers  burned  by  his 
valet  before  his  face, — in  which  he  did  all  concerned 
"  an  important  service." 

At  the  request  of  his  keepers  the  prince  was  taken 
to  another  yacht.  On  reaching  the  bridge  of  boats 
at  the  entrance  to  Wesel,  he  begged  permission  to 
land  there,  so  that  he  might  not  be  known.  His 
keepers  acceded,  but  he  was  no  sooner  on  land  than 
he  ran  off  at  full  speed.  He  was  stopped  by  a 
guard,  whom  the  king  had  sent  to  meet  him,  and 
was  conducted  to  the  town-house.  Not  a  word  was 
said  to  the  king  about  this  attempt  at  flight. 

The  next  day  Frederick  was  brought  before  his 
father,  who  was  in  a  raging  passion. 

"Why  did  you  try  to  run  away?"  he  furiously 
asked. 

"  Because,"  said  Frederick,  firmly,  "  you  have  not 
treated  me  like  your  son,  but  like  a  base  slave." 

"You  are  an  infamous  deserter,  and  have  do 
honor.' 


296  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

"I  have  as  much  as  you,"  retorted  the  prince. 
"  I  have  done  no  more  than  I  have  heard  you  say  a 
hundred  times  that  you  would  do  if  you  were  in  my 
place." 

This  answer  so  incensed  the  old  tyrant  that  he 
drew  his  sword  in  fury  from  its  scabbard,  and  would 
have  run  the  boy  through  had  not  General  Mosel 
hastily  stepped  between,  and  seized  the  king's  arm. 

"  If  you  must  have  blood,  stab  me,"  he  said ;  "  my 
old  carcass  is  not  good  for  much;  but  spare  your 
son." 

These  words  checked  the  king's  brutal  fury.  He 
ordered  them  to  take  the  boy  away,  and  listened 
with  more  composure  to  the  general,  who  entreated 
him  not  to  condemn  the  prince  without  a  hearing,  and 
not  to  commit  the  unpardonable  crime  of  becoming 
his  son's  executioner. 

Events  followed  rapidly  upon  this  discovery. 
Frederick  contrived  to  despatch  a  line  in  pencil  to 
Keith.  "  Save  yourself,"  he  wrote ;  "  all  is  discov- 
ered." Keith  at  once  fled,  reached  the  Hague,  where 
he  was  concealed  in  the  house  of  Lord  Chesterfield, 
the  English  ambassador,  and  when  searched  for 
there,  succeeded  in  escaping  to  England  in  a  fishing- 
boat.  He  was  hung  in  efiigy  in  Prussia,  but  became 
a  major  of  cavalry  in  the  service  of  Portugal. 

Katte  was  less  fortunate.  He  was  warned  in  time 
to  escape,  and  the  marshal  who  was  sent  to  arrest 
him  purposely  delayed,  but  he  lost  precious  time 
in  preparation,  and  was  seized  while  mounting  his 
horse. 

His  arrest  filled  the  queen  with  terror.     Numer- 


THE  YOUTH  OP  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.    297 

ous  letters  were  in  his  possession  which  had  been 
written  by  herself  and  her  daughter  to  the  prince 
royal.  In  these  they  had  often  spoken  with  great 
freedom  of  the  king.  It  might  be  ruinous  should 
these  letters  fall  into  his  hands. 

Some  friend  sent  the  portfolio  supposed  to  con. 
tain  them  to  the  queen.  It  was  locked,  corded, 
and  scaled.  The  trouble  about  the  seal  was  over- 
come by  an  old  valet,  who  had  found  in  the  palace 
garden  one  just  like  it.  The  portfolio  was  opened, 
and  the  queen's  fears  found  to  be  correct.  It  con- 
tained the  letters,  not  less  than  fifteen  hundred  in 
all.  They  were  all  hastily  thrown  into  the  fire, — 
too  hastily,  for  many  of  them  were  innocent  of 
offence. 

Eut  it  would  not  do  to  return  an  empty  portfolio. 
The  queen  and  her  daughter  immediately  began  to 
write  letters  to  replace  the  burned  ones,  taking  paper 
of  each  year's  manufacture  to  prevent  discovery. 
For  three  days  they  diligently  composed  and  wrote, 
and  in  that  period  fabricated  no  less  than  six  or 
seven  hundred  letters.  These  far  from  filled  the 
portfolio,  but  the  queen  packed  other  things  into  it, 
and  then  locked  and  sealed  it,  so  that  no  change  in 
its  appearance  could  be  perceived.  This  done,  it  was 
restored  to  its  place. 

We  must  hasten  over  what  followed.  On  the 
king's  return  his  first  greeting  to  his  wife  was, 
"Your  good-for-nothing  son  is  dead."  He  imme- 
diately demanded  the  portfolio,  tore  it  open,  and 
carried  away  the  letters  which  had  been  so  recently 
concocted.     In  a  few  minutes  he  returned,  and  on 


298  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

seeing  his  daughter  broke  out  into  a  fury  of  rage, 
his  eyes  glaring,  his  mouth  foaming. 

"Infamous  wretch!"  he  shouted;  "dare  you  ap- 
pear in  my  presence  ?  Go  keep  your  scoundrel  of  a 
brother  company." 

He  seized  her  as  he  spoke  and  struck  her  several 
times  violently  in  the  face,  one  blow  on  the  temple 
hurling  her  to  the  floor.  Mad  with  rage,  he  would 
have  trampled  on  her  had  not  the  ladies  present  got 
her  away.  The  scene  was  a  frightful  one.  The 
queen,  believing  her  son  dead,  and  completely  un- 
nerved, ran  wildly  around  the  room,  shrieking  with 
agony.  The  king's  face  was  so  distorted  with  rage 
as  to  be  frightful  to  look  at.  His  younger  children 
were  around  his  knees,  begging  him  with  tears  to 
spare  their  sister.  Wilhelmina,  her  face  bruised 
and  swollen,  was  supported  by  one  of  the  ladies  of 
the  court.  Earely  had  insane  rage  created  a  more 
distressing  spectacle. 

In  the  end  the  king  acknowledged  that  Frederick 
was  still  alive,  but  vowed  that  he  would  have  his 
head  off  as  a  deserter,  and  that  Wilhelmina,  his 
confederate,  should  be  imprisoned  for  life.  He  left 
the  room  at  length  to  question  Katte,  who  was 
being  brought  before  him,  harshly  exclaiming  as  he 
did  so,  "  Now  I  shall  have  evidence  to  convict  the 
scoundrel  Fritz  and  that  blackguard  Wilhelmina.  I 
shall  find  plenty  of  reasons  to  have  their  heads  off." 

But  wo  must  hasten  to  the  conclusion.  Both  the 
captives  were  tried  by  court-martial,  on  the  danger- 
ous charge  of  desertion  from  the  army.  The  court 
which  tried  Frederick  proved  to  be  subservient  to 


THE  YOUTH  OP  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.    299 

the  king's  will.  They  pronounced  sentence  of  death 
on  the  prince  royal.  Katte  was  sentenced  to  im- 
prisonment for  life,  on  the  plea  that  his  crime  had 
been  only  meditated,  not  committed.  The  latter 
sentence  did  not  please  the  despot.  He  changed  it 
himself  from  life  imprisonment  to  death,  and  with 
a  refinement  of  cruelty  ordered  the  execution  to 
take  place  under  the  prince's  window,  and  within 
his  sight. 

On  the  5th  of  November,  1730,  Frederick,  wearing 
a  coarse  prison  dress,  was  conducted  from  his  cell  in 
the  fortress  of  Ciistrin  to  a  room  on  the  lower  floor, 
where  the  window-curtains,  let  down  as  he  entered, 
were  suddenly  drawn  up.  He  saw  before  him  a 
scaffold  hung  with  black,  which  he  believed  to  be 
intended  for  himself,  and  gazed  upon  it  with  shudder- 
ing apprehension.  When  informed  that  it  was  in- 
tended for  his  friend,  his  grief  and  pain  became  even 
more  acute.  He  passed  the  night  in  that  room,  and 
the  next  morning  was  conducted  again  to  the  win- 
dow, beneath  which  he  saw  his  condemned  friend, 
accompanied  by  soldiers,  an  officer,  and  a  minister 
of  religion. 

"  Oh,"  cried  the  prince,  "  how  miserable  it  makes 
me  to  think  that  I  am  the  cause  of  your  death! 
Would  to  God  I  were  in  your  place!" 

"  ISTo,"  replied  Katte ;  "  if  I  had  a  thousand  lives, 
gladly  would  I  lay  them  down  for  you." 

Frederick  swooned  as  his  friend  moved  on.  In  a 
few  minutes  afterwards  Katte  was  dead.  It  was 
long  before  the  sorrowing  prince  recovered  from  the 
shock  of  that  cruel  spectacle. 


300  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

"Whether  the  king  actually  intended  the  execution 
of  his  son  is  questioned.  As  it  was,  earnest  remon- 
strances were  addressed  to  him  from  the  Kings  of 
Sweden  and  Poland,  the  Emperor  of  Germany,  and 
other  monarchs.  He  gradually  recovered  from  the 
insanity  of  his  rage,  and,  on  humble  appeals  from 
his  son,  remitted  his  sentence,  requiring  him  to  take 
a  solemn  oath  that  he  was  converted  from  his  infidel 
beliefs,  that  he  begged  a  thousand  pardons  from  his 
father  for  his  crimes,  and  that  he  repented  not 
having  been  always  obedient  to  his  father's  will. 

This  done,  Frederick  was  released  from  prison, 
but  was  kept  under  surveillance  at  Cu^trin  till  Feb- 
ruary, 1732,  when  he  was  permitted  to  return  to 
Berlin.  He  had  been  there  before  on  the  occasion 
of  his  sister's  marriage,  in  November,  1731,  the  poor 
girl  gladly  accepting  marriage  to  a  prince  she  had 
never  seen  as  a  means  of  escape  from  a.  king  of 
whom  she  had  seen  too  much.  With  this  our  story 
ends.  Father  and  son  were  reconciled,  and  lived  to 
all  appearance  as  good  friends  until  1740,  when  the 
old  despot  died,  and  Frederick  succeeded  him  as 
fcfcg, 


VOLTAIRE  AND  FREDERICK 
THE  GREAT. 

Voltaire,  who  was  an  adept  in  the  art  of  making 
France  too  hot  to  hold  him,  had  gone  to  Prussia,  as 
a  place  of  rest  for  his  perturbed  spirit,  and,  in  re- 
sponse to  the  repeated  invitations  of  his  ardent 
admirer,  Frederick  the  Great.  It  was  a  blunder  on 
both  sides.  If  they  had  wished  to  continue  friends, 
they  should  have  kept  apart.  Frederick  was  auto- 
cratic in  his  ways  and  thoughts  ;  Voltaire  embodied 
the  spirit  of  independence  in  thought  and  speech. 
The  two  men  could  no  more  meet  without  striking  fire 
than  flint  and  steel.  Moreover,  Voltaire  was  normally 
satirical,  restless,  inclined  to  vanity  and  jealousy,  and 
that  terrible  pen  of  his  could  never  be  brought  to  re- 
spect persons  and  places.  With  a  martinet  like  Fred- 
erick, the  visit  was  sure  to  end  in  a  quarrel,  despite 
the  admiration  of  the  prince  for  the  poet. 

Frederick,  though  a  German  king,  was  French  in 
his  love  for  the  Gallic  literature,  philosophy,  and 
language.  He  cared  little  for  German  literature — 
there  was  little  of  it  in  his  day  worth  caring  for— and 
always  wrote  and  spoke  in  French,  while  French 
wits  and  thinkers  who  could  not  live  in  safety  in 
straitlaced  Paris,  gained  the  amplest  scope  for  their 
26  801 


302  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

views  in  his  court.  Voltaire  found  thiee  such  emi- 
grants there,  Maupertuis,  La  Mettrie,  and  D'Arnaud. 
He  was  received  by  them  with  enthusiasm,  as  the 
sovereign  of  their  little  court  of  free  thought. 
Frederick  had  given  him  a  pension  and  the  post  of 
chamberlain, — an  office  with  very  light  duties, — and 
the  expatriated  poet  set  himself  out  to  enjoy  his 
new  life  with  zest  and  animation. 

"A  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  victorious  sol- 
diers," he  wrote  to  Paris,  "no  attorneys,  opera, 
plays,  philosophy,  poetry,  a  hero  who  is  a  philos- 
opher and  a  poet,  grandeur  and  graces,  grenadiers 
and  muses,  trumpets  and  violins,  Plato's  symposium, 
society  and  freedom !  Who  would  believe  it  ?  It  is 
all  true,  however." 

"  It  is  Caesar,  it  is  Marcus  Aurelius,  it  is  Julian,  it 
is  sometimes  Abbe  Chaulieu,  with  whom  I  sup,"  he 
further  wrote;  "there  is  the  charm  of  retirement, 
there  is  the  freedom  of  the  country,  with  all  those 
little  delights  which  the  lord  of  a  castle  who  is  a 
king  can  procure  for  his  very  obedient  humble  ser- 
vants and  guests.  My  own  duties  are  to  do  nothing. 
I  enjoy  my  leisure.  I  give  an  hour  a  day  to  the 
King  of  Prussia  to  touch  up  a  bit  his  works  in  prose 
and  verse ;  I  am  his  grammarian,  not  his  chamber- 
lain. .  .  .  Never  in  any  place  in  the  world  was  there 
more  freedom  of  speech  touching  the  superstitions 
of  men,  and  never  were  they  treated  with  more 
banter  and  contempt.  God  is  respected,  but  all 
they  who  have  cajoled  men  in  His  name  are  treated 
unsparingly." 

It  was,  in  short,  an  Eden  for  a  free-thinker ;  but 


VOLTAIRE  AND  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.    303 

an  Eden  with  its  serpent,  and  this  serpent  was 
the  envy,  jealousy,  and  unrestrainable  satiric  spirit 
of  "Voltaire.  There  was  soon  trouble  between  him 
and  his  fellow- exiles.  He  managed  to  get  Arnaud 
exiled  from  the  country,  and  gradually  a  coolness 
arose  between  him  and  Maupertuis,  whom  Frederick 
had  made  president  of  the  Berlin  Academy.  There 
were  other  quarrels  and  complications,  and  Yoltaire 
grew  disgusted  with  the  occupation  of  what  he  slyly 
called  "  buck- washing"  the  king's  French  verses, — 
poor  affairs  they  were.  Step  by  step  he  was  making 
Berlin  as  hot  as  he  had  made  Paris.  The  new  Adam 
was  growing  restless  in  his  new  Paradise.  He  wrote 
to  his  niece, — 

"  So  it  is  known  by  this  time  in  Paris,  my  dear 
child,  that  we  have  played  the  '  Mort  de  Csesar'  at 
Potsdam,  that  Prince  Henry  is  a  good  actor,  has  no 
accent,  and  is  very  amiable,  and  that  this  is  the 

place  for  pleasure  ?    All  this  is  true,  but The 

king's  supper  parties  are  delightful ;  at  them  people 
talk  reason,  wit,  science ;  freedom  prevails  thereat ; 
he  is  the  soul  of  it  all ;  no  ill-temper,  no  clouds,  at 
any  rate  no  storms ;  my  life  is  free  and  well  occu- 
pied,— but Opera,  plays,  carousals,  suppers  at 

Sans  Souci,  military  manoeuvres,  concerts,  studies, 

readings, — but The  city  of  Berlin,  grand,  better 

laid  out  than  Paris;  palaces,  play-houses,  affable 
parish-priests,  charming  princesses,  maids  of  honor 
beautiful  and  well-made,  the  mansion  of  Madame  de 
Tyrconnel  always  full  and  sometimes  too  much  so, — 

but — but My  dear  child,  the  weather  is  begin- 

oing  to  settle  down  into  a  fine  frost." 


304  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Yoltaire  brought  the  frost.  He  got  into  a  dis- 
roputable  quarrel  with  a  Jew,  and  meddled  in  other 
affairs,  until  something  very  like  a  quarrel  arose 
between  him  and  Frederick.  The  king  wrote  him 
a  severe  letter  of  reprimand.  The  poet  apologized. 
But  immediately  afterwards  his  irrepressible  spirit  of 
mischief  broke  out  in  a  new  place.  It  was  his  ill- 
humor  with  Maupertuis  which  now  led  him  astray. 
He  wrote  a  pamphlet,  full  of  wit  and  as  full  of 
bitterness,  called  "  La  diatribe  du  docteur  Akakia," 
so  evidently  satirizing  Maupertuis  that  the  king 
grew  furious.  It  was  printed  anonymously,  and 
circulated  surreptitiously  in  Berlin,  but  a  copy  soon 
fell  into  Frederick's  hand,  who  knew  at  once  that 
but  one  man  in  the  kingdom  was  capable  of  such  a 
production.  He  wrote  so  severely  to  Yoltaire  that 
the  malicious  satirist  was  frightened  and  gave  up 
the  whole  edition  of  the  pamphlet,  which  was  burnt 
before  his  eyes  in  the  king's  own  closet,  though 
Frederick  could  not  help  laughing  at  its  wit. 

But  Voltaire's  daring  was  equal  to  a  greater  de- 
fiance than  Frederick  imagined.  Despite  the  work 
of  the  flames,  a  copy  of  the  diatribe  found  its  way 
to  Paris,  was  printed  there,  and  copies  of  it  made 
their  way  back  to  Prussia  by  mail.  Everybody  was 
reading  it,  everybody  laughing,  people  fought  for 
copies  of  the  satire,  which  spread  over  Europe.  The 
king,  enraged  by  this  treacherous  disobedience,  as 
he  deemed  it,  retorted  on  Voltaire  by  having  the 
pamphlet  burned  in  the  Place  d'Armes. 

This,  brought  matters  to  a  crisis.  The  next  day 
Voltaire  sent  his  commissions  and  orders  back  to 


VOLTAIRE  AND  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.    305 

Froderick ;  the  next,  Frederick  returned  them  to 
him.  He  was  bent  on  leaving  Prussia  at  once,  but 
wished  to  do  it  without  a  quarrel  with  the  king. 

"  I  sent  the  Solomon  of  the  North,"  he  wrote  to 
Madame  Denis,  "  for  his  present,  the  cap  and  bells 
he  gave  me,  with  which  you  reproached  me  so 
much.  I  wrote  him  a  very  respectful  letter,  for  I 
asked  him  for  leave  to  go.  What  do  you  think  he 
did?  He  sent  me  his  great  factotum,  Federshoff, 
who  brought  me  back  my  toys;  he  wrote  me  a 
letter  saying  that  he  would  rather  have  me  to  live 
with  than  Maupertuis.  What  is  quite  certain  is 
that  I  would  rather  not  live  with  either  the  one  or 
the  other." 

In  truth,  Frederick  could  not  bear  to  lose  Yoltaire. 
Yexed  as  he  was  with  him,  he  was  averse  to  giving 
up  that  charming  conversation  from  which  he  had 
derived  so  much  enjoyment.  Yoltaire  wanted  to 
get  away;  Frederick  pressed  him  to  stay.  There 
was  protestation,  warmth,  coolness,  a  gradual  break- 
ing of  links,  letters  from  France  urging  the  poet  to 
return,  communications  from  Frederick  wishing  him 
to  remain,  and  a  growing  attraction  from  Paris 
drawing  its  flown  son  back  to  that  centre  of  the 
universe  for  a  true  Frenchman. 

At  length  Frederick  yielded ;  Yoltaire  might  go. 
The  poet  approached  him  while  reviewing  his  troops. 

"  Ah  I  Monsieur  Yoltaire,"  said  the  king,  "  so  you 
really  intend  to  go  away  ?" 

"Sir,  urgent  private  affairs,  and  especially  my 
health,  leave  me  no  alternative." 

"  Monsieur,  I  wish  you  a  pleasant  journey." 
iV.-zi  2G* 


S06  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

This  was  enough  for  Voltaire ;  in  an  hour  he  wan 
in  his  carriage  and  on  the  road  to  Leipsic.  He 
thought  he  was  done  for  the  rest  of  his  life  with  the 
"  exactions"  and  "  tyrannies"  of  the  King  of  Prussia. 
He  was  to  experience  some  more  of  them  before  he 
left  the  land.     Frederick  bided  his  time. 

It  was  on  March  26,  1753,  that  Yoltaire  left  Pots- 
dam. It  was  two  months  afterwards  before  he 
reached  Frankfort.  He  had  tarried  at  Leipsic  and 
at  Gotha,  engaged  in  the  latter  place  on  a  dry 
chronicle  asked  for  by  the  duchess,  entitled  "The 
Annals  of  the  Empire."  During  this  time  also,  in 
direct  disregard  of  a  promise  he  had  made  Fred- 
erick, there  appeared  a  supplement  to  "  Doctor  Aka- 
kia,"  more  offensive  than  the  main  text.  It  was 
followed  by  a  virulent  correspondence  with  Mauper- 
tuis.  Yoltaire  was  filling  up  the  vials  of  wrath  of 
the  king. 

On  May  31  he  reached  Frankfort.  Here  the  blow 
fell.  There  occurred  an  incident  which  has  become 
famous  in  literary  history,  and  which,  while  it  had 
some  warrant  on  Frederick's  side,  tells  very  poorly 
for  that  patron  of  literature.  No  unlettered  autocrat 
could  have  acted  with  less  regard  to  the  rights  and 
proprieties  of  citizenship. 

"  Here  is  how  this  fine  adventure  came  about, ' 
writes  Voltaire.  "  There  was  at  Frankfort  one 
Freytag,  who  had  been  banished  from  Dresden  and 
had  become  an  agent  for  the  King  of  Prussia.  .  .  . 
He  notified  me,  on  behalf  of  his  Majesty,  that  I  was 
not  to  leave  Frankfort  till  I  had  restored  the  valua- 
ble effects  I  was  carrying  away  from  his  Majesty. 


VOLTAIRE  AND  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.    307 

"  *  Alack,  sir,  I  am  carrying  away  nothing  from 
that  country,  if  you  please,  not  even  the  smallest 
regret.  What,  pray,  are  those  jewels  of  the  Bran- 
denburg crown  that  you  require  ?' 

" '  It  be,  sir,'  replied  Freytag,  '  the  work  of  poeshy 
of  the  king,  my  gracious  master.' 

" '  Oh,  I  will  give  him  back  his  prose  and  verse 
with  all  my  heart,'  replied  I,  'though,  after  all,  I 
have  more  than  one  right  to  the  work.  He  made 
me  a  present  of  a  beautiful  copy  printed  at  his  ex- 
pense. Unfortunately,  the  copy  is  at  Leipsic  with 
my  other  luggage.' 

"  Then  Freytag  proposed  to  me  to  remain  at  Frank- 
fort until  the  treasure  which  was  at  Leipsic  should 
have  arrived ;  and  he  signed  an  order  for  it." 

The  volume  which  Frederick  wanted  he  had 
doubtless  good  reason  to  demand,  when  it  is  consid- 
ered that  it  was  in  the  hands  of  a  man  who  could 
be  as  malicious  as  Yoltaire.  It  contained  a  burlesque 
and  licentious  poem,  called  the  "  Palladium,"  in 
which  the  king  scoffed  at  everybody  and  everything 
in  a  manner  he  preferred  not  to  make  public.  Yol- 
taire in  Berlin  might  be  trusted  to  remain  discreet. 
In  Paris  his  discretion  could  not  be  counted  on. 
Frederick  wanted  the  poem  in  his  own  hands. 

There  was  delay  in  the  matter;  references  to 
Frederick  and  returns  j  the  affair  dragged  on  slow  ly. 
The  package  arrived.  Yoltaire,  agitated  at  his  de- 
tention, ill  and  anxious,  wanted  to  get  away,  in  com- 
pany with  Madame  Denis,  who  had  just  joined  him. 
Freytag  refused  to  let  him  go.  Yery  unwisely,  the 
poet  determined  to  slip  away,  imagining  that  in  a 


308  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

"  free  city"  like  Frankfort  he  could  not  be  disturbed. 
He  was  mistaken.  The  freedom  of  Frankfort  was 
subject  to  the  will  of  Frederick.  The  poet  tells  for 
himself  what  followed. 

"  The  moment  I  was  off,  I  was  arrested,  I,  my 
secretary  and  my  people ;  my  niece  is  arrested ;  four 
soldiers  drag  her  through  the  mud  to  a  cheesemon- 
ger's named  Smith,  who  had  some  title  or  other  of 
privy  councillor  to  the  King  of  Prussia ;  my  niece 
had  a  passport  from  the  King  of  France,  and,  what 
is  more,  she  had  never  corrected  the  King  of  Prussia's 
verses.  They  huddled  us  all  into  a  sort  of  hostelry, 
at  the  door  of  which  were  posted  a  dozen  soldiers; 
we  were  for  twelve  days  prisoners  of  war,  and  we 
had  to  pay  a  hundred  and  forty  crowns  a  day." 

Yoltaire  was  furious;  Madame  Denis  was  ill,  or 
feigned  to  be ;  she  wrote  letter  after  letter  to  Vol- 
taire's friends  in  Prussia,  and  to  the  king  himself. 
The  affair  was  growing  daily  more  serious.  Finally 
the  city  authorities  themselves,  who  doubtless  felt 
that  they  were  not  playing  a  very  creditable  part, 
put  an  end  to  it  by  ordering  Freytag  to  release  his 
prisoner.  Yoltaire,  set  free,  travelled  leisurely  to- 
wards France,  which,  however,  he  found  himself 
refused  permission  to  enter.  He  thereupon  repaired 
to  Geneva,  and  thereafter,  freed  from  the  patronage 
of  princes  and  the  injustice  of  the  powerful,  spent 
his  life  in  a  land  where  full  freedom  of  thought  and 
action  was  possible. 

As  for  the  worthy  Freytag,  he  felicitated  himself 
highly  on  the  way  he  had  handled  that  dabbler  in 
poeshy.     "  We  would  have  risked  our  lives  rather 


VOLTAIRE  AND  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.    309 

than  let  him  get  away,"  he  wrote ;  "  and  if  1,  hold- 
ing a  council  of  war  with  myself,  had  not  found  him 
at  the  barrier  but  in  the  open  country,  and  he  had 
refused  to  jog  back,  I  don't  know  that  I  shouldn't 
have  lodged  a  bullet  in  his  head.  To  such  a  degree 
had  I  at  heart  the  letters  and  writing  of  the  king." 

The  too  trusty  agent  did  not  feel  so  self-satisfied 
on  receiving  the  opinion  of  the  king. 

"  I  gave  you  no  such  orders  as  that,"  wrote  Fred- 
erick. "  You  should  never  make  more  noise  than  a 
thing  deserves.  I  wanted  Yoltaire  to  give  you  up 
the  key,  the  cross,  and  the  volume  of  poems  I  had 
intrusted  to  him ;  as  soon  as  all  that  was  given  up 
to  you  I  can't  see  what  earthly  reason  could  have 
induced  you  to  make  this  uproar." 

It  is  very  probable,  however,  that  Frederick 
wished  to  humiliate  Yoltaire,  and  the  latter  did  not 
fail  to  revenge  himself  with  that  weapon  which  he 
knew  so  well  how  to  wield.  In  his  poem  of  "La 
Loi  naturelle"  he  drew  a  bitter  but  truthful  portrait 
of  Frederick  which  must  have  made  that  arbitrary 
gentleman  wince.     He  was,  says  the  poet, — 

"  Of  incongruities  a  monstrous  pile, 
CalliDg  men  brothers,  crushing  them  the  while ; 
"With  air  humane,  a  misanthropic  hrute  ; 
Ofttimes  impulsive,  sometimes  over-'cute ; 
Weak  'midst  his  choler,  modest  in  his  pride; 
Yearning  for  virtue,  lust  personified ; 
Statesman  and  author,  of  the  slippery  crew : 
My  patron,  pupil,  persecutor  too." 


SCENES  FROM  THE  SEVEN 
YEARS'    WAR. 

The  story  of  Frederick  the  Great  is  a  story  of 
incessant  wars,  wars  against  frightful  odds,  for  all 
Europe  was  combined  against  him,  and  for  seven 
years  the  Austrians,  the  French,  the  Eussians,  and 
the  Swedes  surrounded  his  realm,  with  the  bitter  de- 
termination to  crush  him,  if  not  to  annihilate  the 
Prussian  kingdom.  England  alone  was  on  his  side. 
Russia  had  joined  the  coalition  through  anger  of  the 
Empress  Elizabeth  at  Frederick's  satire  upon  her 
licentious  life;  France  had  joined  it  through  hos- 
tility to  England;  Austria  had  organized  it  from 
indignation  at  Frederick's  lawless  seizure  of  Silesia ; 
the  army  raised  to  operate  against  Prussia  numbered 
several  hundred  thousand  men. 

For  years  Frederick  fought  them  all  single-handed, 
with  a  persistence,  an  energy,  and  a  resolute  rising 
under  the  weight  of  defeat  that  compelled  the  ad- 
miration even  of  his  enemies,  and  in  the  end  gave 
him  victory  over  them  all.  To  the  rigid  discipline 
of  his  troops,  his  own  military  genius,  and  his  in 
domitable  perseverance,  he  owed  his  final  success 
and  his  well-earned  epithet  of  "  The  Great." 

The  story  of  battle,  stirring  as  it  is,  is  apt  to  grow 
310 


311 

monotonous,  and  we  have  perhaps  inflicted  too  many 
battle  scenes  already  upon  our  readers,  though  we 
have  selected  only  such  as  had  some  particular  feat- 
ure of  interest  to  enliven  them.  Out  of  Frederick's 
numerous  battles  we  may  be  able  to  present  some 
examples  sufficiently  diverse  from  the  ordinary  to 
render  them  worthy  of  classification,  under  the  title 
of  the  romance  of  history. 

Let  us  go  back  to  the  5th  of  November,  1757. 
On  that  date  the  army  of  Frederick  lay  in  the 
vicinity  of  Eossbach,  on  the  Saale,  then  occupied  by 
a  powerful  French  army.  The  Prussian  commander, 
after  vainly  endeavoring  to  bring  the  Austrians  to 
battle,  had  turned  and  marched  against  the  French, 
with  the  hope  of  driving  them  out  of  Saxony. 

His  hope  was  not  a  very  promising  one.  The 
French  army  was  sixty  thousand  strong.  He  had 
but  little  over  twenty  thousand  men.  While  he  felt 
hope  the  French  felt  assurance.  They  had  their 
active  foe  now  in  their  clutches,  they  deemed. 
With  his  handful  of  men  he  could  not  possibly  stand 
before  their  onset.  He  had  escaped  them  more 
than  once  before ;  this  time  they  had  him,  as  they 
believed. 

His  camp  was  on  a  height,  near  the  Saale.  To- 
wards it  the  French  advanced,  with  flying  colors 
and  sounding  trumpets,  as  if  with  purpose  to  strike 
terror  into  the  ranks  of  their  foes.  That  Frederick 
would  venture  to  stand  before  them  they  scarcely- 
credited.  If  he  should,  his  danger  would  be  immi- 
nent, for  they  had  laid  their  plans  to  surround  his 
small  force,  and,  by  taking  the  king  and  his  army 


312  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

prisoners,  end  at  a  blow  the  vexatious  war.  They 
calculated  shrewdly  but  not  well,  for  they  left 
Frederick  out  of  the  account  in  their  plans. 

As  they  came  up,  line  after  line,  column  after 
column,  they  must  have  been  surprised  by  the  seem- 
ing indifference  of  the  Prussians.  There  were  in 
their  ranks  no  signs  of  retreat  and  none  of  hostility. 
They  remained  perfectly  quiet  in  their  camp,  not 
a  gun  being  fired,  not  a  movement  visible,  as  inert 
and  heedless  to  all  seeming  of  the  coming  of  the 
French  as  though  there  were  no  enemy  within  a 
hundred  miles. 

There  was  a  marked  difference  between  the  make- 
up of  the  two  armies,  which  greatly  reduced  their 
numerical  odds.  Frederick's  army  was  composed 
of  thoroughly  disciplined  and  trained  soldiers,  every 
man  of  whom  knew  his  place  and  his  duty,  and 
could  be  trusted  in  an  emergency.  The  French,  on 
the  contrary,  had  brought  all  they  could  of  Paris 
with  them ;  their  army  was  encumbered  with  women, 
wig-makers,  barbers,  and  the  like  impedimenta,  and 
confusion  and  gayety  in  their  ranks  replaced  the 
stern  discipline  of  Frederick's  camp.  After  the 
battle,  the  booty  is  said  to  have  consisted  largely  of 
objects  of  gallantry  better  suited  for  a  boudoir  than 
a  camp. 

The  light  columns  of  smoke  that  arose  from  the 
Prussian  camp  as  the  French  advanced  indicated 
their  occupation, — and  that  by  no  means  suggested 
alarm.  They  were  cooking  their  dinners,  with  as 
much  unconcern  as  though  they  had  not  yet  seen 
the  coming  enemy  nor  heard  the  clangor  of  trum- 


SCENES    FROM   THE   SEVEN    YEARS'    WAR.  313 

pots  lhat  announced  their  approach.  Had  the 
French  commanders  been  within  the  Prussian  lines 
ihey  would  have  been  more  astonished  still,  for  they 
would  have  seen  Frederick  with  his  staff  and  general 
officers  dining  at  leisure  and  with  the  utmost  cool- 
ness and  indifference.  There  was  no  appearance  of 
haste  in  their  movements,  and  no  more  in  those  of 
their  men,  whose  whole  concern  just  then  seemed 
to  be  the  getting  of  a  good  meal. 

The  hour  passed  on,  the  French  came  nearer, 
their  trumpet  clangor  was  close  at  hand,  every  mo- 
ment seemed  to  render  the  peril  of  the  Prussians 
more  imminent,  yet  their  inertness  continued;  it 
looked  almost  as  though  they  had  given  up  the  idea 
of  defence.  The  confidence  of  the  French  must 
have  grown  rapidly  as  their  plan  of  surrounding 
the  Prussians  with  their  superior  numbers  seemed 
more  and  more  assured. 

But  Frederick  had  his  eye  upon  them.  He  was 
biding  his  time.  Suddenly  there  came  a  change. 
It  was  about  half-past  two  in  the  afternoon.  The 
French  had  reached  the  position  for  which  he  had 
been  waiting.  Quickly  the  staff  officers  dashed 
right  and  left  with  their  orders.  The  trumpets 
sounded.  As  if  by  magic  the  tents  were  struck,  the 
men  sprang  to  their  ranks  and  were  drawn  up  in 
battle  array,  the  artillery  opened  its  fire,  the  seem- 
ing inertness  which  had  prevailed  was  with  extraor- 
dinary rapidity  exchanged  for  warlike  activity;  the 
complete  discipline  of  the  Prussian  army  had  never 
been  more  notably  displayed. 

The  French,  who  had  been  marching  forward 
o  27 


314  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

with  careless  ease,  beheld  this  change  of  the  situa- 
tion with  astounded  eyes.  They  looked  for  heavi- 
ness and  slowness  of  movement  among  the  Germans, 
and  could  scarcely  believe  in  the  possibility  of  such 
rapidity  of  evolution.  But  they  had  little  time  to 
think.  The  Prussian  batteries  were  pouring  a  rain 
of  balls  through  their  columns.  And  quickly  the 
Prussian  cavalry,  headed  by  the  dashing  Seidlitz, 
was  in  their  midst,  cutting  and  slashing  with  anni- 
hilating vigor. 

The  surprise  was  complete.  The  French  found 
it  impossible  to  form  into  line.  Everywhere  their 
columns  were  being  swept  by  musketry  and  artil- 
lery, and  decimated  by  the  sabres  of  the  charging 
cavalry.  In  almost  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell 
it  they  were  thrown  into  confusion,  overwhelmed, 
routed ;  in  the  course  of  less  than  half  an  hour  the 
fate  of  the  battle  was  decided,  and  the  French  army 
completely  defeated. 

Their  confidence  of  a  short  time  before  was  suc- 
ceeded by  panic,  and  the  lately  trim  ranks  fled  in 
utter  disorganization,  so  utterly  broken  that  many 
of  the  fugitives  never  stopped  till  they  reached  the 
other  side  of  the  Ehine. 

Seven  thousand  prisoners  fell  into  Frederick's 
hands,  including  nine  generals  and  numerous  other 
officers,  together  with  all  the  French  artillery, 
and  twenty-two  standards;  while  the  victory  was 
achieved  with  the  loss  of  only  one  hundred  and 
sixty-five  killed  and  three  hundred  and  fifty  wounded 
on  the  Prussian  side.  The  triumph  was  one  of  dis- 
cipline against  over-confidence.     No  army  under  less 


SCENES    FROM    THE   SEVEN    YEARS'    WAR.  315 

complete  control  than  that  of  Frederick  could  have 
sprung  so  suddenly  into  warlike  array.  To  this, 
and  to  the  sudden  and  overwhelming  dash  of  Seid- 
litz  and  his  cavalry,  the  remarkable  victory  was 
due. 

Just  one  month  from  that  date,  on  the  5th  of  De- 
cember, another  great  battle  took  place,  and  another 
important  victory  for  Frederick  the  Great.  With 
thirty  thousand  Prussians  he  defeated  eighty  thou- 
sand Austrians,  while  the  prisoners  taken  nearly 
equalled  in  number  his  entire  force. 

The  Austrians  had  taken  the  opportunity  of  Fred- 
erick's campaign  against  the  French  to  overrun  Si- 
lesia. Breslau,  its  capital,  with  several  other  strong- 
holds, fell  into  their  hands,  and  the  probability  was 
that  if  left  there  during  the  winter  they  would 
so  strongly  fortify  it  as  to  defy  any  attempt  of  the 
Prussian  king  to  recapture  it. 

Despite  the  weakness  of  his  army  Frederick  de- 
cided to  make  an  effort  to  regain  the  lost  province, 
and  marched  at  once  against  the  Austrians.  They 
lay  in  a  strong  position  behind  the  river  Lohe,  and 
here  their  leader,  Field-Marshal  Daun,  wished  to 
have  them  remain,  having  had  abundant  experience 
of  his  opponent  in  the  open  field.  This  cautious 
advice  was  not  taken  by  Prince  Charles,  who  con- 
trolled the  movements  of  the  army,  and  whom 
several  of  the  generals  persuaded  that  it  would  bo 
degrading  for  a  victorious  army  to  intrench  itself 
against  one  so  much  inferior  in  numbers,  and  advised 
him  to  march  out  and  meet  the  Prussians.  ';  The 
parade  guard  of  Berlin,"  as  they  contemptuously 


316  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

designated  Frederick's  army,  "  would  never  be  able 
to  make  a  stand  against  them." 

The  prince,  who  was  impetuous  in  disposition, 
agreed  with  them,  marched  out  from  his  intrench- 
ments,  and  met  Frederick's  army  in  the  vast  plain 
near  Leuthen.  On  December  5  the  two  armies  came 
face  to  face,  the  lines  of  the  imperial  force  extending 
over  a  space  of  five  miles,  while  those  of  Frederick 
occupied  a  much  narrower  space. 

In  his  lack  of  numbers  the  Prussian  king  was 
obliged  to  substitute  celerity  of  movement,  hoping 
to  double  the  effectiveness  of  his  troops  by  their 
quickness  of  action.  The  story  of  the  battle  may 
be  given  in  a  few  words.  A  false  attack  was  made 
on  the  Austrian  right,  and  then  the  bulk  of  the 
Prussian  army  was  hurled  upon  their  left  wing,  with 
such  impetuosity  as  to  break  and  shatter  it.  The 
disorder  caused  by  this  attack  spread  until  it  in- 
cluded the  whole  army.  In  three  hours'  time  Fred- 
erick had  completely  defeated  his  foes,  one-third  of 
whom  were  killed,  wounded,  or  captured,  and  the 
remainder  put  to  flight.  The  field  was  covered  with 
the  slain,  and  whole  battalions  surrendered,  the 
Prussians  capturing  in  all  twenty-one  thousand 
prisoners.  They  took  besides  one  hundred  and 
thirty  cannon  and  three  thousand  baggage  and  am- 
munition wagons.  The  victory  was  a  remarkable 
example  of  the  supremacy  of  genius  over  mere 
numbers.  Napoleon  says  of  it,  "  That  battle  was  a 
master-piece.  Of  itself  it  is  suflicient  to  entitle 
Frederick  to  a  place  in  the  first  rank  of  generals." 
It  restored  Silesia  to  the  Prussian  dominions. 


SCENES   FROM   THE   SEVEN   YEARS'    WAR.  317 

There  is  one  more  of  Frederick's  victories  of 
sufficiently  striking  character  to  fit  in  with  those 
already  given.  It  took  place  in  1760,  several  years 
after  those  described,  years  in  which  Frederick  had 
struggled  persistently  against  overwhelming  odds, 
and,  though  often  worsted,  yet  coming  up  fresh  after 
overy  defeat,  and  unconquerably  keeping  the  field. 

He  was  again  in  Silesia,  which  was  once  more 
seriously  threatened  by  the  Austrian  forces.  His 
position  was  anything  but  a  safe  one.  The  Aus- 
trians  almost  surrounded  him.  On  one  side  was 
the  army  of  Field-Marshal  Daun,.  on  the  other  that 
of  General  Lasci ;  in  front  was  General  Laudon. 
Fighting  day  and  night  he  advanced,  and  finally 
took  up  his  position  at  Liegnitz,  where  he  found  his 
forward  route  blocked,  Daun  having  formed  a  junc- 
tion with  Laudon.  His  magazines  were  at  Breslau 
and  Schweidnitz  in  front,  which  it  was  impossible  to 
reach ;  while  his  brother,  Prince  Henry,  who  might 
have  marched  to  his  relief,  was  detained  by  the 
Eussians  on  the  Oder. 

The  position  of  Frederick  was  a  critical  one.  He 
had  only  a  few  days'  supply  of  provisions ;  it  was 
impossible  to  advance,  and  dangerous  to  retreat;  the 
Austrians,  in  superior  numbers,  were  dangerously 
near  him ;  only  fortune  and  valor  could  save  him 
from  serious  disaster.  In  this  crisis  of  bis  career 
happy  chance  came  to  his  aid,  and  relieved  him  from 
the  awkward  and  perilous  situation  into  which  he 
had  fallen. 

The  Austrians  were  keenly  on  the  alert,  biding 
their  time  and  watchful  for  an  opportunity  to  take 
27* 


318  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

the  Prussians  at  advantage.  The  time  had  nov? 
arrived,  as  they  thought,  and  they  laid  their  plans 
accordingly.  On  the  night  before  the  15th  of  Au- 
gust Laudon  set  out  on  a  secret  march,  his  pur- 
pose being  to  gain  the  heights  of  Puffendorf,  from 
which  the  Prussians  might  be  assailed  in  the  rear. 
At  the  same  time  the  other  corps  were  to  close  in 
on  every  side,  completely  surrounding  Frederick, 
and  annihilating  him  if  possible. 

It  was  a  well-laid  and  promising  plan,  but  acci- 
dent befriended  the  Prussian  king.  Accident  and 
alertness,  we  may  say ;  since,  to  prevent  a  surprise 
from  the  Austrians,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  changing 
the  location  of  his  camp  almost  every  night.  Such 
a  change  took  place  on  the  night  in  question.  On 
the  14th  the  Austrians  had  made  a  close  reconnoi- 
sance  of  his  position.  Fearing  some  hostile  purpose 
in  this,  Frederick,  as  soon  as  the  night  had  fallen, 
ordered  his  tents  to  be  struck  and  the  camp  to  be 
moved  with  the  utmost  silence,  so  as  to  avoid  giving 
the  foe  a  hint  of  his  purpose.  As  it  chanced,  the 
new  camp  was  made  on  those  very  heights  of  Puf- 
fendorf towards  which  Laudon  was  advancing  with 
equal  care  and  secrecy. 

That  there  might  be  no  suspicion  of  the  Prussian 
movement,  the  watch-fires  were  kept  up  in  the  old 
camp,  peasants  attending  to  them,  while  patrols  of 
hussars  cried  out  the  challenge  every  quarter  of  an 
hour.  The  gleaming  lights,  the  watch -cries  of  the 
sentinels,  all  indicated  that  the  Prussian  army  was 
sleeping  on  its  old  ground,  without  suspicion  of  the 
overwhelming  blow  intended  for  it  on  the  morrow. 


SCENES   FROM   THE   SEVEN    YEARS'    WAR.  319 

Meanwhile  the  king  and  his  army  had  reached 
^hoir  new  quarters,  where  the  utmost  caution  and 
noiselessness  was  observed.  The  king,  wrapped  in 
his  military  cloak,  had  fallen  asleep  beside  his  watch- 
fire  ;  Ziethen,  his  valiant  cavalry  leader,  and  a  few 
others  of  his  principal  officers,  being  with  him. 
Throughout  the  camp  the  greatest  stillness  pre- 
vailed, all  noise  having  been  forbidden.  The  sol- 
diers slept  with  their  arms  close  at  hand,  and  ready 
to  be  seized  at  a  moment's  notice.  Frederick  fully 
appreciated  the  peril  of  his  situation,  and  was  not 
to  be  taken  by  surprise  by  his  active  foes.  And 
thus  the  night  moved  on  until  midnight  passed,  and 
the  new  day  began  its  course  in  the  small  hours. 

About  two  o'clock  a  sudden  change  came  in  the  sit- 
uation. A  horseman  galloped  at  full  speed  through 
the  camp,  and  drew  up  hastily  at  the  king's  tent, 
calling  Frederick  from  his  light  slumbers.  He  was 
the  officer  in  command  of  the  patrol  of  hussars,  and 
brought  startling  news.  The  enemy  was  at  hand, 
he  said;  his  advance  columns  were  within  a  few 
hundred  yards  of  the  camp.  It  was  Laudon's  army, 
seeking  to  steal  into  possession  of  those  heights 
which  Frederick  had  so  opportunely  occupied. 

The  stirring  tidings  passed  rapidly  through  the 
camp.  The  soldiers  were  awakened,  the  officers 
seized  their  arms  and  sprang  to  horse,  the  troops 
grasped  their  weapons  and  hastened  into  line,  the 
cannoneers  flew  to  their  guns,  soon  the  roar  of 
artillery  warned  the  coming  Austrians  that  they 
;uid  a  foe  in  their  front. 

Laudon  pushed  on,  thinking  this  to  be  some  ad- 


320  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

vance  column  which  he  could  easily  sweep  from  his 
front.  Not  until  day  dawned  did  he  discover  the 
true  situation,  and  perceive,  with  astounded  eyes, 
that  the  whole  Prussian  army  stood  in  line  of  battle 
on  those  very  heights  which  he  had  hoped  so  easily 
to  occupy. 

The  advantage  on  which  the  Austrian  had  so 
fully  counted  lay  with  the  Prussian  king.  Yet,  un- 
daunted, Laudon  pushed  on  and  made  a  vigorous 
attack,  feeling  sure  that  the  thunder  of  the  artillery 
would  be  borne  to  Daun's  ears,  and  bring  that  com- 
mander in  all  haste,  with  his  army,  to  take  part  in 
the  fray. 

But  the  good  fortune  which  had  so  far  favored 
Frederick  did  not  now  desert  him.  The  wind  blew 
freshly  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  carried  the 
sound  of  the  cannon  away  from  Daun's  hearing.  Not 
the  roar  of  a  piece  of  artillery  came  to  him,  and  his 
army  lay  moveless  during  the  battle,  he  deeming 
that  Laudon  must  now  be  in  full  possession  of  the 
heights,  and  felicitating  himself  on  the  neat  trap 
into  which  the  King  of  Prussia  had  fallen.  While 
he  thus  rested  on  his  arms,  glorying  in  his  soul  on 
the  annihilation  to  which  the  pestilent  Prussians 
were  doomed,  his  ally  was  making  a  desperate 
struggle  for  life,  on  those  very  heights  which  he 
counted  on  taking  without  a  shot.  Truly,  the  Aus- 
trians  had  reckoned  without  their  foe  in  laying  their 
cunning  plot. 

Three  hours  of  daylight  finished  the  affray. 
Taken  by  surprise  as  they  were,  the  Austrian s 
proved  unable  to  sustain  the  vigorous  Prussian  as- 


SCENES   PROM    THE   SEVEN   YEARS'    WAR.  321 

sault,  and  were  utterly  routed,  leaving  ten  thousand 
dead  and  wounded  on  the  field,  and  eighty -two  pieces 
of  artillery  in  the  enemy's  hands.  Shortly  after- 
wards Daun,  advancing  to  carry  out  his  share  of 
the  scheme  of  annihilation,  fell  upon  the  right  wing 
of  the  Prussians,  commanded  by  General  Ziethen, 
and  was  met  with  so  fierce  an  artillery  fire  that  he 
halted  in  dismay.  And  now  news  of  Laudon's  dis- 
aster was  brought  to  him.  Seeing  that  the  game 
was  lost  and  himself  in  danger,  he  emulated  his 
associate  in  his  hasty  retreat. 

Fortune  and  alertness  had  saved  the  Prussian 
king  from  a  serious  danger,  and  turned  peril  into 
victory.  He  lost  no  time  in  profiting  by  his  ad- 
vantage, and  was  in  full  march  towards  Breslau 
within  three  hours  after  the  battle,  the  prisoners  in 
the  centre,  the  wounded— friend  and  foe  alike, — in 
wagons  in  the  rear,  and  the  captured  cannon  added 
to  his  own  artillery  train.  Silesia  was  once  more 
delivered  into  his  hands. 

Never  in  history  had  there  been  so  persistent  and 
indomitable  a  resistance  against  overwhelming  num- 
bers as  that  which  Frederick  sustained  for  so  many 
years  against  his  numerous  foes.  At  length,  when 
hope  seemed  almost  at  an  end,  and  it  appeared  as  if 
nothing  could  save  the  Prussian  kingdom  from  over- 
throw, death  came  to  the  aid  of  the  courageous 
monarch.  The  Empress  Elizabeth  of  Eussia  died, 
and  Frederick's  bitterest  foe  was  removed.  The 
new  monarch,  Paul  III.,  was  an  ardent  admirer 
of  Frederick,  and  at  once  discharged  all  the  Prus- 
sian prisoners  in  his  hands,  and  signed  a  treaty  of 

IV— V 


322  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

alliance  with  Prussia.  Sweden  quickly  did  the  same, 
leaving  Frederick  with  no  opponents  but  the  Aus- 
trians.  Four  months  more  sufficed  to  bring  his  re- 
maining foes  to  terms,  and  by  the  end  of  the  year 
1762  the  distracting  Seven  Years'  War  was  at  an 
end,  the  indomitable  Frederick  remaining  in  full 
possession  of  Silesia,  the  great  bone  of  contention 
in  the  war.  His  resolution  and  perseverance  had 
raised  Prussia  to  a  high  position  among  the  king- 
doms of  Europe,  and  laid  the  foundations  of  the 
present  empire  of  Germany. 


THE  PATRIOTS   OF  THE 
TYROL. 

On  the  9th  of  April,  1809,  down  the  river  Inn,  in 
the  Tyrol,  came  floating  a  series  of  planks,  from 
whose  surface  waved  little  red  flags.  What  they 
meant  the  Bavarian  soldiers,  who  held  that  mountain 
land  with  a  hand  of  iron,  could  not  conjecture.  But 
what  they  meant  the  peasantry  well  knew.  On  the 
day  before  peace  had  ruled  throughout  the  Alps,  and 
no  Bavarian  dreamed  of  war.  Those  flags  were  the 
signal  for  insurrection,  and  on  their  appearance  the 
brave  mountaineers  sprang  at  once  to  arms  and  flew 
to  the  defence  of  the  bridges  of  their  country,  which 
the  Bavarians  were  marching  to  destroy,  as  an  act 
of  defence  against  the  Austrians. 

On  the  10th  the  storm  of  war  burst.  Some  Ba- 
varian sappers  had  been  sent  to  blow  up  the  bridge 
of  St.  Lorenzo.  But  hardly  had  they  begun  their 
work,  when  a  shower  of  bullets  from  unseen  marks- 
men swept  the  bridge.  Several  were  killed ;  the  rest 
took  to  flight ;  the  Tyrol  was  in  revolt. 

News  of  this  outbreak  was  borne  to  Colonel 
Wrede,  in  command  of  the  Bavarians,  who  hastened 
with  a  force  of  infantry,  cavalry,  and  artillery  to 
the  spot.     lie  found  the  peasants  out  in  numbers. 

323 


324  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

The  Tyrolean  riflemen,  who  were  accustomed  to 
bring  down  chamois  from  the  mountain  peaks,  de- 
fended the  bridge,  and  made  terrible  havoc  in  the 
Bavarian  ranks.  They  seized  Wrede's  artillery  and 
flung  guns  and  gunners  together  into  the  stream, 
and  finally  put  the  Bavarians  to  rout,  with  sevei  e 
loss. 

The  Bavarians  held  the  Tyrol  as  allies  of  the 
French,  and  the  movement  against  the  bridges  had 
been  directed  by  Napoleon,  to  prevent  the  Austrians 
from  reoccupying  the  country,  which  had  been 
wrested  from  their  hands.  Wrede  in  his  retreat  was 
joined  by  a  body  of  three  thousand  French,  but  de- 
cided, instead  of  venturing  again  to  face  the  daring 
foe,  to  withdraw  to  Innsbruck.  But  withdrawal 
was  not  easy.  The  signal  of  revolt  had  everywhere 
called  the  Tyrolese  to  arms.  The  passes  were  occu- 
pied. The  fine  old  Eoman  bridge  over  the  Brenner, 
at  Laditsch,  was  blown  up.  In  the  pass  of  the 
Brixen,  leading  to  this  bridge,  the  French  and  Ba- 
varians found  themselves  assailed  in  the  old  Swiss 
manner,  by  rocks  and  logs  rolled  down  upon  their 
heads,  while  the  unerring  rifles  of  the  hidden  peas- 
ants swept  the  pass.  Numbers  were  slain,  but  the 
remainder  succeeded  in  escaping  by  means  of  a  tem- 
porary bridge,  which  they  threw  over  the  stream 
on  the  site  of  the  bridge  of  Laditsch. 

Of  the  Tyrolese  patriots  to  whom  this  outbreak 
was  due  two  are  worthy  of  special  mention,  Joseph 
Speckbacher,  a  wealthy  peasant  of  Binn,  and  the 
more  famous  Andrew  Hofer,  the  host  of  the  Sand 
Inn  at  Passeyr,  a  man  everywhere  known  through 


THE  PATRIOTS  OF  THE  TYROL.        325 

the  mountains,  as  he  traded  in  wine,  corn,  and  horses 
ay  far  as  the  Italian  frontier. 

Hofer  was  a  man  of  herculean  frame  and  of  a 
full,  open,  handsome  countenance,  which  gained  dig- 
nity from  its  long,  dark-brown  beard,  which  fell  in 
rich  curls  upon  his  chest.  His  picturesque  dress 
— that  of  the  Tyrol — comprised  a  red  waistcoat, 
crossed  by  green  braces,  which  were  fastened  to 
black  knee  breeches  of  chamois  leather,  below  which 
he  wore  red  stockings.  A  broad  black  leather  girdle 
clasped  his  muscular  form,  while  over  all  was  worn 
a  short  green  coat.  On  his  head  he  wore  a  low- 
crowned,  broad-brimmed  Tyrolean  hat,  black  in  color, 
and  ornamented  with  green  ribbons  and  with  the 
feathers  of  the  capercailzie. 

This  striking-looking  patriot,  at  the  head  of  a 
strong  party  of  peasantry,  made  an  assault,  early  on 
the  11th,  upon  a  Bavarian  infantry  battalion  under 
the  command  of  Colonel  Baraklau,  who  retreated  to 
a  table-land  named  Sterzinger  Moos,  where,  drawn 
up  in  a  square,  he  resisted  every  effort  of  the  Tyro- 
lese  to  dislodge  him.  Finally  Hofer  broke  his  lines 
by  a  stratagem.  A  wagon  loaded  with  hay,  and 
driven  by  a  girl,  was  pushed  towards  the  square, 
the  brave  girl  shouting,  as  the  balls  flew  round  her, 
"  On  with  ye  !  Who  cares  for  Bavarian  dumplings !" 
Under  its  shelter  the  Tyrolese  advanced,  broke  the 
square,  and  killed  or  made  prisoners  the  whole  of 
the  battalion. 

Speckbacher,  the  other  patriot  named,  was  no  less 
arfive.     No  sooner  had  the  signal  of  revolt  appeared 
in  the  Inn  than  he  set  the  alarm-bells  ringing  in 
28 


326  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

every  church-tower  through  the  lower  valley  of  that 
stream,  and  quickly  was  at  the  head  of  a  band  of 
stalwart  Tyrolese.  On  the  night  of  the  11th  he 
advanced  on  the  city  of  Hall,  and  lighted  about  a 
hundred  watch-fires  on  one  side  of  the  city,  as  if 
about  to  attack  it  from  that  quarter.  While  the 
attention  of  the  garrison  was  directed  towards  these 
fires,  he  crept  through  the  darkness  to  the  gate  on 
the  opposite  side,  and  demanded  entrance  as  a  com- 
mon traveller.  The  gate  was  opened;  his  hidden 
companions  rushed  forward  and  seized  it ;  in  a  brief 
time  the  city,  with  its  Bavarian  garrison,  was  his. 

On  the  12th  he  appeared  before  Innsbruck,  and 
made  a  fierce  assault  upon  the  city,  in  which  he  was 
aided  by  a  murderous  fire  poured  upon  the  Bavarians 
by  the  citizens  from  windows  and  towers.  The 
people  of  the  upper  valley  of  the  Inn  flocked  to  the 
aid  of  their  fellows,  and  the  place,  with  its  garri- 
bou,  was  soon  taken,  despite  their  obstinate  defence. 
Dittfurt,  the  Bavarian  leader,  who  scornfully  refused 
to  yield  to  the  peasant  dogs,  as  he  considered  them, 
fought  with  tiger-like  ferocity,  and  fell  at  length, 
pierced  by  four  bullets. 

One  further  act  completed  the  freeing  of  the 
Tyrol  from  Bavarian  domination.  The  troops  under 
Colonel  Wrede  had,  as  we  have  related,  crossed  the 
Brenner  on  a  temporary  bridge,  and  escaped  the 
perils  of  the  pass.  Greater  perils  awaited  them. 
Their  road  lay  past  Sterzing.  the  scene  of  Hofer's 
victory.  Every  trace  of  the  conflict  had  been  oblit- 
erated, and  Wrede  vainly  sought  to  discover  what 
had   become  of  Baraklau   and  his  battalion.      He 


THE    PATRIOTS   OF   THE   TYROL.  327 

entered  the  narrow  pass  through  which  the  road 
ran  at  that  place,  and  speedily  found  his  ranks  deci- 
mated by  the  rifles  of  Hofer's  concealed  men. 

After  considerable  loss  the  column  broke  through, 
and  continued  its  march  to  Innsbruck,  where  it  was 
immediately  surrounded  by  a  triumphant  host  of 
Tyrolese.  The  struggle  was  short,  sharp,  and  de- 
cisive. In  a  few  minutes  several  hundred  men  had 
fallen.  In  order  to  escape  complete  destruction  the 
rest  laid  down  their  arms.  The  captors  entered 
Innsbruck  in  triumph,  preceded  by  the  military 
band  of  the  enemy,  which  they  compelled  to  play, 
and  guarding  their  prisoners,  who  included  two 
generals,  more  than  a  hundred  other  officers,  and 
about  two  thousand  men. 

In  two  days  the  Tyrol  had  been  freed  from  its 
Bavarian  oppressors  and  their  French  allies  and 
restored  to  its  Austrian  lords.  The  arms  of  Bavaria 
were  everywhere  cast  to  the  ground,  and  the  officials 
removed.  But  the  prisoners  were  treated  with  great 
humanity,  except  in  the  single  instance  of  a  tax- 
gatherer,  who  had  boasted  that  he  would  grind 
down  the  Tyrolese  until  they  should  gladly  eat  hay. 
In  revenge,  they  forced  him  to  swallow  a  bushel  of 
hay  for  his  dinner. 

The  freedom  thus  gained  by  the  Tyrolese  was  not 
likely  to  be  permanent  with  Napoleon  for  their  foe. 
The  Austrians  hastened  to  the  defence  of  the  country 
which  had  been  so  bravely  won  for  their  emperor. 
On  the  other  side  came  the  French  and  Bavarians 
as  enemies  and  oppressors.  Lefebvre,  the  leader 
of  the   invaders,  was  a  rough  and  brutal   soldier, 


328  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

who  encouraged  his  men  to  commit  every  outrage 
upon  the  mountaineers. 

For  some  two  or  three  months  the  conflict  went 
on,  with  varying  fortunes,  depending  upon  the  con- 
ditions of  the  war  between  France  and  Austria.  At 
first  the  French  were  triumphant,  and  the  Austrians 
withdrew  from  the  Tyrol.  Then  came  Napoleon's 
defeat  at  Aspern,  and  the  Tyrolese  rose  and  again 
drove  the  invaders  from  their  country.  In  July 
occurred  Napoleon's  great  victory  at  Wagram,  and 
the  hopes  of  the  Tyrol  once  more  sank.  All  the 
Austrians  were  withdrawn,  and  Lefebvre  again 
advanced  at  the  head  of  thirty  or  forty  thousand 
French,  Bavarians,  and  Saxons. 

The  courage  of  the  peasantry  vanished  before  this 
threatening  invasion.  Hofer  alone  remained  reso- 
lute, saying  to  the  Austrian  governor,  on  his  depart- 
ure, "  Well,  then,  I  will  undertake  the  government, 
and,  as  long  as  God  wills,  name  myself  Andrew 
Hofer,  host  of  the  Sand  at  Passeyr,  and  Count  of 
the  Tyrol." 

He  needed  resolution,  for  his  fellow-chiefs  deserted 
the  cause  of  their  country  on  all  sides.  On  his  way 
to  his  home  he  met  Speckbacher,  hurrying  from  the 
country  in  a  carriage  with  some  Austrian  officers. 

"  Wilt  thou  also  desert  thy  country !"  said  Hofer 
to  him  in  tones  of  sad  reproach. 

Another  leader,  Joachim  Haspinger,  a  Capuchin 
monk,  nicknamed  Eedbeard,  a  man  of  much  military 
talent,  withdrew  to  his  monastery  at  Seeben.  Hofer 
was  left  alone  of  the  Tyrolese  leaders.  While  the 
French  advanced  without  opposition,  he  took  refuge 


THE   PATRIOTS   OF   THE   TYROL.  329 

in  a  cavern  amid  the  steep  rocks  that  overhung  his 
native  vale,  where  he  implored  Heaven  for  aid. 

The  aid  came.  Lefebvre,  in  his  brutal  fashion, 
plundered  and  burnt  as  he  advanced,  and  published 
a  proscription  list  instead  of  the  amnesty  promised. 
The  natural  result  followed.  Hofer  persuaded  the 
bold  Capuchin  to  leave  his  monastery,  and  he,  with 
two  others,  called  the  western  Tyrol  to  arms.  Hofer 
raised  the  eastern  Tyrol.  They  soon  gained  a  power- 
ful associate  in  Speckbacher,  who,  conscience-stricken 
by  Hofer's  reproach,  had  left  the  Austrians  and  has- 
tened back  to  his  country.  The  invader's  cruelty 
had  produced  its  natural  result.  The  Tyrol  was 
once  more  in  full  revolt. 

With  a  bunch  of  rosemary,  the  gift  of  their  chosen 
maidens,  in  their  green  hats,  the  young  men  grasped 
their  trusty  rifles  and  hurried  to  the  places  of  ren- 
dezvous. The  older  men  wore  peacock  plumes,  the 
Hapsburg  symbol.  With  haste  they  prepared  for  the 
war.  Cannon  which  did  good  service  were  made 
from  bored  logs  of  larch  wood,  bound  with  iron  rings. 
Here  the  patriots  built  abatis ;  there  they  gathered 
heaps  of  stone  on  the  edges  of  precipices  which  rose 
above  the  narrow  vales  and  passes.  The  timber 
slides  in  the  mountains  were  changed  in  their  course 
so  that  trees  from  the  heights  might  be  shot  down 
upon  the  important  passes  and  bridges.  All  that 
could  be  done  to  give  the  invaders  a  warm  welcome 
was  prepared,  and  the  bold  peasants  waited  eagerly 
for  the  coming  conflict. 

From  four  quarters  the  invasion  came,  Lefebvre's 
army  being  divided  so  as  to  attack  the  Tyroles© 
28* 


330  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

from  every  side,  and  meet  in  the  heart  of  the 
country.  They  were  destined  to  a  disastrous  re- 
pulse. The  Saxons,  led  by  Eouyer,  marched  through 
the  narrow  valley  of  Eisach,  the  heights  above  which 
were  occupied  by  Haspinger  the  Capuchin  and  his 
men.  Down  upon  them  came  rocks  and  trees  from 
the  heights.  Eouyer  was  hurt,  and  many  of  his 
men  were  slain  around  him.  He  withdrew  in  haste, 
leaving  one  regiment  to  retain  its  position  in  the 
Oberau.  This  the  Tyrolese  did  not  propose  to  per- 
mit. They  attacked  the  regiment  on  the  next  day, 
in  the  narrow  valley,  with  overpowering  numbers. 
Though  faint  with  hunger  and  the  intense  heat,  and 
exhausted  by  the  fierceness  of  the  assault,  a  part  of 
the  troops  cut  their  way  through  with  great  loss 
and  escaped.     The  rest  were  made  prisoners. 

The  story  is  told  that  during  their  retreat,  and 
when  ready  to  drop  with  fatigue,  the  soldiers  found 
a  cask  of  wine.  Its  head  was  knocked  in  by  a 
drummer,  who,  as  he  stooped  to  drink,  was  pierced 
by  a  bullet  and  his  blood  mingled  with  the  wine. 
Despite  this,  the  famishing  soldiery  greedily  swal- 
lowed the  contents  of  the  cask. 

A  second  corps  oVarmee  advanced  up  the  valley  of 
the  Inn  as  far  as  the  bridges  of  Pruz.  Here  it  was 
repulsed  by  the  Tyrolese,  and  retreated  under  cover 
of  the  darkness  during  the  night  of  August  8.  The 
infantry  crept  noiselessly  over  the  bridge  of  Pontlaz. 
The  cavalry  followed  with  equal  caution  but  with 
less  success.  The  sound  of  a  horse's  hoof  aroused 
the  watchful  Tyrolese.  Instantly  rocks  and  trees 
«vere  hurled  upon  the  bridge,  men  and  horses  being 


THE    PATRIOTS    OF   THE    TYROL.  331 

crushed  beneath  them  aDd  the  passage  blocked.  All 
the  troops  which  had  not  crossed  were  taken  prison- 
ers. The  remainder  were  sharply  pursued,  and  only 
a  handful  of  them  escaped. 

The  other  divisions  of  the  invading  army  met 
with  a  similar  fate.  Lefebvre  himself,  who  re- 
proached the  Saxons  for  their  defeat,  was  not  able 
to  advance  as  far  as  they,  and  was  quickly  driven 
from  the  mountains  with  greatly  thinned  ranks. 
He  was  forced  to  disguise  himself  as  a  common  sol- 
dier and  hide  among  the  cavalry  to  escape  the  balls 
of  the  sharp-shooters,  who  owed  him  no  love.  The 
rear-guard  was  attacked  with  clubs  by  the  Capu- 
chin and  his  men,  and  driven  out  with  heavy  loss. 
During  the  night  that  followed  all  the  mountains 
around  the  beautiful  valley  of  Innsbruck  were  lit 
up  with  watch-fires.  In  the  valley  below  those  of 
the  invaders  were  kept  brightly  burning  while  the 
troops  silently  withdrew.  On  the  next  day  the 
Tyrol  held  no  foes;  the  invasion  had  failed. 

Hofer  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  govern- 
ment at  Innsbruck,  where  he  lived  in  his  old  simple 
mode  of  life,  proclaimed  some  excellent  laws,  and 
convoked  a  national  assembly.  The  Emperor  of 
Austria  sent  him  a  golden  chain  and  three  thousand 
ducats.  He  received  them  with  no  show  of  pride, 
and  returned  the  following  naive  answer :  "  Sirs,  I 
thank  you.  I  have  no  news  for  you  to-day.  I  have, 
it  is  true,  three  couriers  on  the  road,  the  Watscher- 
II!e<ele,  the  Sixten-Seppele,  and  the  Memmele- 
Franz,  and  the  Schwanz  ought  long  to  have  beer 
r^re.     I  expect  the  rascal  every  hour." 


332  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

Meanwhile,  Speckbacher  and  the  Capuchin  kept 
up  hostilities  successfully  on  the  eastern  frontier. 
Haspinger  wished  to  invade  the  country  of  their 
foes,  but  was  restrained  by  his  more  prudent  asso- 
ciate. Speckbacher  is  described  as  an  open-hearted, 
fine-spirited  fellow,  with  the  strength  of  a  giant, 
and  one  best  marksman  in  the  country.  So  keen 
was  his  vision  that  he  could  distinguish  the  bells 
on  the  necks  of  the  cattle  at  the  distance  of  half  a 
mile. 

His  son  Anderle,  but  ten  years  of  age,  was  of  a 
spirit  equal  to  his  own.  In  one  of  the  earlier  battles 
of  the  war  he  had  occupied  himself  during  the 
fight  in  collecting  the  enemy's  balls  in  his  hat, 
and  so  obstinately  refused  to  quit  the  field  that  his 
father  had  him  carried  by  force  to  a  distant  alp. 
During  the  present  conflict,  Anderle  unexpectedly 
appeared  and  fought  by  his  father's  side.  He  had 
escaped  from  his  mountain  retreat.  It  proved  an 
unlucky  escape.  Shortly  afterwards,  the  father  was 
surprised  by  treachery  and  found  himself  surrounded 
with  foes,  who  tore  from  him  his  arms,  flung  him  to 
the  ground,  and  seriously  injured  him  with  blows 
from  a  club.  But  in  an  instant  more  he  sprang 
furiously  to  his  feet,  hurled  his  assailants  to  the 
earth,  and  escaped  across  a  wall  of  rock  impassable 
except  to  an  expert  mountaineer.  A  hundred  of 
his  men  followed  him,  but  his  young  son  was  taken 
captive  by  his  foes.  The  king,  Maximilian  Joseph, 
attracted  by  the  story  of  his  courage  and  beauty, 
sent  for  him  and  had  him  well  educated. 

The  freedom  of  the  Tyrol  was  not  to  last  long. 


THE  PATRIOTS  OF  THE  TYROL.        333 

The  treaty  of  Yienna,  between  the  Emperors  of 
Austria  and  France,  was  signed.  It  did  not  even 
mention  the  Tyrol.  It  was  a  tacit  understanding 
that  the  mountain  country,  was  to  be  restored  to 
Bavaria,  and  to  reduce  it  to  obedience  three  fresh 
armies  crossed  its  frontiers.  They  were  repulsed  in 
the  south,  but  in  the  north  Hofer,  under  unwise 
advice,  abandoned  the  anterior  passes,  and  the  in- 
vaders made  their  way  as  far  as  Innsbruck,  whence 
they  summoned  him  to  capitulate. 

During  the  night  of  October  30  an  envoy  from 
Austria  appeared  in  the  Tyrolese  camp,  bearing  a 
letter  from  the  Archduke  John,  in  which  he  an- 
nounced the  conclusion  of  peace  and  commanded  the 
mountaineers  to  disperse,  and  not  to  offer  their  lives 
as  a  useless  sacrifice.  The  Tyrolese  regarded  him  as 
their  lord,  and  obeyed,  though  with  bitter  regret. 
A  dispersion  took  place,  except  of  the  band  of  Speck- 
bacher,  which  held  its  ground  against  the  enemy 
until  the  3d  of  November,  when  he  received  a  let- 
ter from  Hofer  saying,  "I  announce  to  you  that 
Austria  has  made  peace  with  France,  and  has  for- 
gotten the  Tyrol."  On  receiving  this  news  he  dis- 
banded his  followers,  and  all  opposition  ceased. 

The  war  was  soon  afoot  again,  however,  in  the 
native  vale  of  Hofer,  the  people  of  which,  made 
desperate  by  the  depredations  of  the  Italian  bands 
which  had  penetrated  their  country,  sprang  to  arms 
and  resolved  to  defend  themselves  to  the  bitter  end. 
They  compelled  Hofer  to  place  himself  at  their 
head. 

For  a  time  they  were  successful.     But  a  traitor 


334  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

guided  the  enemy  to  their  rear,  and  defeat  followed, 
Hofer  escaped  and  took  refuge  among  the  mountain, 
peaks.  Others  of  the  leaders  were  taken  and  exe- 
cuted. The  most  gallant  among  the  peasantry  were 
shot  or  hanged.  There  was  some  further  opposition, 
but  the  invaders  pressed  into  every  valley  and  dis 
armed  the  people,  the  bulk  of  whom  obeyed  the 
orders  given  them  and  offered  no  resistance.  The 
revolt  was  quelled. 

Hofer  took  refuge  at  first,  with  his  wife  and  child, 
in  a  narrow  hollow  in  the  Kellerlager.  This  he  soon 
left  for  a  hut  on  the  highest  alps.  He  was  implored 
to  leave  the  country,  but  he  vowed  that  he  would 
live  or  die  on  his  native  soil.  Discovery  soon  came. 
A  peasant  named  Eaffel  learned  the  location  of  his 
hiding-place  by  seeing  the  smoke  ascend  from  his 
distant  hut.  He  foolishly  boasted  of  his  knowledge  ; 
his  story  came  to  the  ears  of  the  French  ;  he  was 
arrested,  and  compelled  to  guide  them  to  the  spot. 
Two  thousand  French  were  spread  around  the  moun- 
tain ;  a  thousand  six  hundred  ascended  it ;  Hofer 
was  taken. 

His  captors  treated  him  with  brutal  violence. 
They  tore  out  his  beard,  and  dragged  him  pinioned, 
barefoot,  and  in  his  night-dress,  over  ice  and  snow 
to  the  valley.  Here  he  was  placed  in  a  carriage  and 
carried  to  the  fortress  of  Mantua,  in  Italy.  Napo- 
leon, on  news  of  the  capture  being  brought  to  him 
at  Paris,  sent  orders  to  shoot  him  within  twenty- 
four  hours. 

He  died  as  bravely  as  he  had  lived.  When  placed 
before  the  firing-party  of  twelve  riflemen,  he  refused 


THE  PATRIOTS  OP  THE  TYROL.        336 

either  to  kneel  or  to  allow  himself  to  be  blindfolded. 
"  I  stand  before  my  Creator,"  he  exclaimed,  in  firm 
tones,  "  and  standing  will  I  restore  to  him  the  spirit 
he  gave." 

He  gave  the  signal  to  fire,  but  the  men,  moved  by 
the  scene,  missed  their  aim.  The  first  fire  brought 
him  to  his  knees,  the  second  stretched  him  on  the 
ground,  where  a  corporal  terminated  the  cruel  scene 
by  shooting  him  through  the  head.  He  died  Febru- 
ary 29,  1810.  At  a  later  date  his  remains  were  borne 
back  to  his  native  alps,  a  handsome  monument  of 
white  marble  was  erected  to  his  memory  in  the 
church  at  Innsbruck,  and  his  family  was  ennobled. 

Of  the  two  other  principal  leaders  of  the  Tyrolese, 
Haspinger,  the  Capuchin,  escaped  to  Yienna,  which 
Speckbacher  also  succeeded  in  reaching,  after  a  series 
of  perils  and  escapes  which  are  well  worth  relating. 

After  the  dispersal  of  his  troops  he,  like  Hofer, 
sought  concealment  in  the  mountains,  where  the 
Bavarians  sought  for  him  in  troops,  vowing  to  "  cut 
his  skin  into  boot-straps  if  they  caught  him."  He 
attempted  to  follow  the  mountain  paths  to  Austria, 
but  at  Dux  found  the  roads  so  blocked  with  snow 
that  further  progress  was  impossible.  Here  the  Ba- 
varians came  upon  his  track  and  attacked  the  house 
in  which  he  had  taken  refuge.  He  escaped  by  leap- 
ing from  its  roof,  but  was  wounded  in  doing  so. 

For  the  twenty-seven  days  that  followed  he  roamed 
through  the  snowy  mountain  forests,  in  danger  of 
death  both  from  cold  and  starvation.  Once  for  four 
days  together  he  did  not  taste  food.  At  the  end  of 
this  time  he  found  shelter  in  a  hut  at  Bolderberg, 


336  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

where  by  chance  he  found  his  wife  and  children,  who 
had  sought  the  same  asylum. 

His  bitterly  persistent  foes  left  him  not  long  in 
safety  here.  They  learned  his  place  of  retreat,  and 
pursued  him,  his  presence  of  mind  alone  saving  him 
from  capture.  Seeing  them  approach,  he  took  a 
sledge  upon  his  shoulders,  and  walked  towards  and 
past  them  as  though  he  were  a  servant  of  the  house. 

His  next  place  of  refuge  was  in  a  cave  on  the 
Gemshaken,  in  which  he  remained  until  the  opening 
of  spring,  when  he  had  the  ill-fortune  to  be  carried 
by  a  snow-slide  a  mile  and  a  half  into  the  valley. 
It  was  impossible  to  return.  He  crept  from  the 
snow,  but  found  that  one  of  his  legs  was  dislocated. 
The  utmost  he  could  do,  and  that  with  agonizing 
pain,  was  to  drag  himself  to  a  neighboring  hut. 
Here  were  two  men,  who  carried  him  to  his  own 
house  at  Einn. 

Bavarians  were  quartered  in  the  house,  and  the 
only  place  of  refuge  open  to  him  was  the  cow-shed, 
where  his  faithful  servant  Zoppel  dug  for  him  a  hole 
beneath  the  bed  of  one  of  the  cows,  and  daily  sup- 
plied him  with  food.  His  wife  had  returned  to  the 
house,  but  the  danger  of  discovery  was  so  great  that 
even  she  was  not  told  of  his  propinquity. 

For  seven  weeks  he  remained  thus  half  buried  in 
the  cow-shed,  gradually  recovering  his  strength.  At 
the  end  of  that  time  he  rose,  bade  adieu  to  his  wife, 
who  now  first  learned  of  his  presence,  and  again  be- 
took himself  to  the  high  paths  of  the  mountains, 
from  which  the  sun  of  May  had  freed  the  snow. 
He  reached  Yienna  without  further  trouble. 


THE    PATRIOTS    OF   THE   TYROL.  337 

Here  the  brave  patriot  received  no  thanks  for  his 
services.  Even  a  small  estate  he  had  purchased 
with  the  remains  of  his  property  he  was  forced  to 
relinquish,  not  being  able  to  complete  the  purchase. 
He  would  have  been  reduced  to  beggary  but  for 
Hofer's  son,  who  had  received  a  fine  estate  froiE  the 
emperor,  and  who  engaged  him  as  his  steward. 
Thus  ended  the  active  career  of  the  ablest  leader  in 
the  Tyrolean  war. 


THE   OLD  EMPIRE  AND    THE 
NEW. 

During  the  Christinas  festival  of  the  year  800  the 
crown  of  the  imperial  dignity  was  placed  at  Eome 
on  the  head  of  Charles  the  Great  of  France,  and 
the  Eoman  Empire  of  the  West  again  came  into 
being,  so  far  as  a  dead  thing  could  be  restored  to 
life.  For  one  thousand  and  six  years  afterwards 
this  title  of  emperor  was  retained  in  Germany, 
though  the  power  represented  by  it  became  at  times 
a  very  shadowy  affair.  The  authority  and  influence 
of  the  emperors  reached  their  culmination  during 
the  reign  of  the  Hohenstauffens  (1138  to  1254). 
For  a  few  centuries  afterwards  the  title  represented 
an  empire  which  was  but  a  quarter  fact,  three-quar- 
ters tradition,  the  emperor  being  duly  elected  by 
the  diet  of  German  princes,  but  by  no  means  sub- 
missively obeyed.  The  fraction  of  fact  which  re- 
mained of  the  old  empire  perished  in  the  Thirty 
Years'  War.  After  that  date  the  title  continued  in 
existence,  being  held  by  the  Hapsburgs  of  Austria 
as  an  hereditary  dignity,  but  the  empire  had  van- 
ished except  as  a  tradition  or  superstition.  Finally, 
on  the  6th  of  August,  1806,  Francis  II.,  at  the  ab- 
solute  dictum  of  Napoleon,  laid  down  the  title  of 
838 


THE   OLD   EMPIRE   AND   THE    NEW.  339 

"  Emperor  of  the  Holy  Eoman  Empire  of  the  Ger- 
man Nation,"  and  the  long  defunct  empire  was 
finally  buried. 

The  shadow  which  remained  of  the  empire  of 
Charlemagne  had  vanished  before  the  rise  of  a 
greater  and  more  vital  thing,  the  empire  of  France, 
brought  into  existence  by  the  genius  of  Napoleon 
Bonaparte,  the  successor  of  Charles  the  Great  as  a 
mighty  conqueror.  For  a  few  years  it  seemed  as  if 
the  original  empire  might  be  restored.  The  power 
of  Napoleon,  indeed,  extended  farther  than  that  of 
his  great  predecessor,  all  Europe  west  of  Eussia 
becoming  virtually  his.  Some  of  the  kings  were 
replaced  by  monarch s  of  his  creation.  Others  were 
left  upon  their  thrones,  but  with  their  power  shorn, 
their  dignity  being  largely  one  of  vassalage  to 
France.  Not  content  with  an  empire  that  stretched 
beyond  the  limits  of  that  of  Charlemagne  or  of  the 
Eoman  Empire  of  the  "West,  Napoleon  ambitiously 
sought  to  subdue  all  Europe  to  his  imperial  will,  and 
marched  into  Eussia  with  nearly  all  the  remaining 
nations  of  Europe  as  his  forced  allies. 

His  career  as  a  conqueror  ended  in  the  snows 
of  Muscovy  and  amid  the  flames  of  Moscow.  The 
shattered  fragment  of  the  grand  army  of  conquest 
that  came  back  from  that  terrible  expedition  found 
crushed  and  dismayed  Germany  rising  into  hostile 
vitality  in  its  rear.  Eussia  pursued  its  vanquished 
invader,  Prussia  rose  against  him,  Austria  joined  his 
foes,  and  at  length,  in  October,  1813,  united  Germany 
was  marshalled  in  arms  against  its  mighty  enemy 
before  the  city  of  Leipsic,  the  scene  of  the  great 


340  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

battles  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  nearly  two  centu- 
ries before. 

Here  was  fought  one  of  the  fiercest  and  most  de- 
cisive struggles  of  that  quarter  century  of  conflict. 
It  was  a  fight  for  life,  a  battle  to  decide  the  question 
of  who  should  be  lord  of  Europe.  Napoleon  had 
been  brought  to  bay.  Despising  to  the  last  his  foes, 
he  had  weakened  his  army  by  leaving  strong  garri- 
sons in  the  German  cities,  which  he  hoped  to  re- 
occupy  after  he  had  beaten  the  German  armies.  On 
the  16th  of  October  the  great  contest  began.  It 
was  fought  fiercely  throughout  the  day,  with  suc- 
cessive waves  of  victory  and  defeat,  the  advantage 
at  the  end  resting  with  the  allies  through  sheer 
force  of  numbers.  The  17th  was  a  day  of  rest  and 
negotiation,  Napoleon  vainly  seeking  to  induce  the 
Emperor  of  Austria  to  withdraw  from  the  alliance. 
While  this  was  going  on  large  bodies  of  Swedes, 
Kussians,  and  Austrians  were  marching  to  join  the 
German  ranks,  and  the  battle  of  the  18th  was  fought 
between  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  French  and  a 
hostile  army  of  double  that  strength,  which  repre- 
sented all  northern  and  eastern  Europe. 

The  battle  was  one  of  frightful  slaughter.  Its 
turning-point  came  when  the  Saxon  infantry,  which 
had  hitherto  fought  on  the  French  side,  deserted 
Napoleon's  cause  in  the  thick  of  the  fight,  and  went 
over  in  a  body  to  the  enemy.  It  was  an  act  of 
treachery  whose  fatal  effect  no  effort  could  over- 
come. The  day  ended  with  victory  in  the  hands  of 
the  allies.  The  French  were  driven  back  close  upon 
the  walls  of  Leipsic,  with  the  serried  columns  of 


THE  OLD  EMPIRE  AND  THE  NEW.       341 

Germany  and  Russia  closing  them  in,  and  bent  on 
giving  no  relaxation  to  their  desperate  foe. 

The  struggle  was  at  an  end.  Longer  resistance 
would  have  been  madness.  Napoleon  ordered  a 
retreat.  But  the  Elster  had  to  be  crossed,  and  only 
a  single  bridge  remained  for  the  passage  of  the 
army  and  its  stores.  All  night  long  the  French 
poured  across  the  bridge  with  what  they  could  take 
of  their  wagons  and  guns.  Morning  dawned  with 
the  rush  and  hurry  of  the  retreat  still  in  active 
progress.  A  strong  rear-guard  held  the  town,  and 
Napoleon  himself  made  his  way  across  the  bridge 
with  difficulty  through  the  crowding  masses. 

Hardly  had  he  crossed  when  a  frightful  misfortune 
occurred.     The  bridge  had  been  mined,  to  blow  it 
up  on  the  approach  of  the  foe.     This  duty  had  been 
carelessly  trusted  to  a  subaltern,  who,  frightened 
by  seeing  some  of  the  enemy  on  the  river-side,  set 
fire  hastily  to  the  train.     The  bridge  blew  up  with 
a  tremendous  explosion,  leaving    a  rear-guard  of 
twenty-five  thousand  men  in  Leipsic  cut  off  from 
all  hope  of  escape.     Some  officers  plunged  on  horse- 
back  into   the  stream   and   swam  across.      Prince 
Poniatowsky,  the  gallant  Pole,  essayed  the  same, 
but  perished  in  the  attempt.     The  soldiers  of  the 
rear-o-uard  were  forced  to  surrender  as  prisoners  of 
war.     In  this  great  conflict,  which  had  continued  for 
four  days,  and  in  which  the  most  of  the  nations  of 
Europe  took  part,  eighty  thousand  men  are  said  to 
have  been  slain.     The  French  lost  very  heavily  in 
prisoners  and  guns.     Only  a  hasty  retreat  to  the 
Rhine  saved  the  remainder  of  their  army  from  being 
29  * 


342  HISTORICAL   TALES. 

cut  off  and  captured.  On  the  20th  Napoleon  suc- 
ceeded in  crossing  that  frontier  river  of  his  king- 
dom with  seventy  thousand  men,  the  remnant  of 
the  grand  army  with  which  he  had  sought  to  hold 
Prussia  after  the  disastrous  end  of  the  invasion  of 
Russia. 

Germany  was  at  length  freed  from  its  mighty  foe. 
The  garrisons  which  had  been  left  in  its  cities  were 
forced  to  surrender  as  prisoners  of  war.  France  in 
its  turn  was  invaded,  Paris  taken,  and  Napoleon 
forced  to  resign  the  imperial  crown,  and  to  retire 
from  his  empire  to  the  little  island  of  Elba,  near  the 
Italian  coast.  In  1815  he  returned,  again  set  Europe 
in  flame  with  war,  and  fell  once  more  at  Waterloo, 
to  end  his  career  in  the  far-off  island  of  St.  Helena. 

Thus  for  the  time  ended  empire  in  Europe.  For 
a  period  there  were  kingdoms  but  no  empire.  The 
next  to  claim  the  imperial  title  was  Louis  Napoleon, 
who  in  1851  had  himself  crowned  as  Napoleon  III. 
But  his  so-called  empire  was  confined  to  France,  and 
fell  in  1870  on  the  field  of  Sedan,  himself  and  his  army 
being  taken  prisoners.  A  republic  was  declared  in 
France,  and  the  second  French  empire  was  at  an  end. 

And  now  the  empire  of  Germany  was  restored, 
after  having  ceased  to  exist  for  sixty-five  years. 
The  remarkable  success  of  William  of  Prussia  gave 
rise  to  a  wide-spread  feeling  in  the  German  states 
that  he  should  assume  the  imperial  crown,  and  the 
old  empire  be  brought  again  into  existence  under 
new  conditions;  no  longer  hampered  by  the  tradi- 
tion of  a  Roman  empire,  but  as  the  title  of  united 
Germany. 


I  HE  OLD   EMPIRE   AND   THE   NEW.  343 

On  December  18, 1870,  an  address  from  the  .North 
German  Parliament  was  read  to  King  William  at 
Versailles,  asking  him  to  accept  the  imperial  crown. 
He  assented,  and  on  January  18,  1871,  an  imposing 
ceremony  was  held  in  the  splendid  Mirror  Hall 
(Gralerie  des  Glaces)  of  Louis  XIV.,  at  the  royal 
palace  of  Versailles.  The  day  was  a  wet  one,  and 
the  king  rode  from  his  quarters  in  the  prefecture  to 
the  great  gates  of  the  chateau,  where  he  alighted 
and  passed  through  a  lane  of  soldiers,  the  roar  of 
cannon  heralding  his  approach,  and  rich  strains  of 
music  signalling  his  entrance  to  the  hall. 

William  wore  a  general's  uniform,  with  the  ribbon 
of  the  .DiaeK  Eagle  on  his  breast.  Helmet  in  hand 
he  advanced  slowly  to  the  dais,  bowed  to  the  assem- 
bled clergymen,  and  turned  to  survey  the  scene. 
There  had  been  erected  an  al+av  covered  with 
scarlet  cloth,  which  bore  the  device  of  the  Iron 
Cross.  Eight  and  left  of  it  were  soldiers  bearing 
the  standards  of  their  regiments.  Attending  on  tne 
king  were  the  crown-prince,  and  a  brilliant  array  of 
the  princes,  dukes,  and  other  rulers  ol  tne  tfermaii 
states  arranged  in  semicircular  form.  Just  above 
his  head  was  a  great  allegorical  painting  of  the 
Grand  Monarch,  with  the  proud  subscription,  "  Le 
Boi  gouverne  par  lui  meme"  the  motto  of  the  auto- 
crat. 

The  ceremony  began  with  the  singing  of  psalms, 
a  short  sermon,  and  a  grand  German  chorale,  in 
which  all  present  joined.  Then  William,  in  a  loud 
but  broken  voice,  read  a  paper,  in  which  he  declared 
the  German  empire  re-established,  and  the  imperial 


344  HISTORICAL  TALES. 

dignity  revived,  to  be  invested  in  him  and  his  de- 
scendants for  all  future  time,  in  accordance  with  the 
will  of  the  German  people. 

Count  Bismarck  followed  with  a  proclamation 
addressed  by  the  emperor  to  the  German  nation. 
As  he  ended,  the  Grand-Duke  of  Baden,  William's 
son-in-law,  stepped  out  from  the  line,  raised  his 
helmet  in  the  air,  and  shouted  in  stentorian  tones, 
"Long  live  the  German  Emperor  William  1  Hur- 
rah !" 

Loud  cheers  and  waving  of  swords  and  helmets 
responded  to  his  stirring  appeal,  the  crown-prince 
fell  on  his  knee  to  kiss  the  emperor's  hand,  and  a 
military  band  outside  the  hall  struck  up  the  German 
National  Anthem,  while,  as  a  warlike  background 
to  the  scene,  came  the  roar  of  French  cannon  from 
Mount  Yalerien,  still  besieged  by  the  Germans,  their 
warlike  peal  the  last  note  of  defiance  from  van- 
quished France.  Ten  days  afterwards  Paris  surren- 
dered, and  the  war  was  at  an  end.  On  the  16th  of 
June  the  army  made  a  triumphant  entrance  into 
Berlin,  William  riding  at  its  head,  to  be  triumphantly 
hailed  aa  emperor  by  his  own  people  on  his  own  soil. 
All  Germany,  with  the  exception  of  Austria,  was  ibr 
the  first  time  fully  united  into  an  empire,  the  minor 
princes  having  ceased  to  exist  as  rulintr  potentate*. 


T&£    £NIf. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

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^»tJS» 


""^HgE- 


